MAY 30, 2023

 

I borrowed the body
of an angel.

Though it’s not like mine hadn’t been good enough,
a fraction of time
made clear my own was an awful situation.

An angel’s body—
I was more than a little obsessed with my debt,

could barely breathe with the wings,
had no clue what to do
with their weight upon my shoulders.

The angel half-smiled at my backside
and said, You must bury yourself
in thoughts whiter than snow.  

Angel bodies are worth more
than mere money,
and since they last longer than time itself,
there’s no real way to repay them.

Only a few times in life
have I ever
seen an expression as useless as mine.  

In even my face, hardened
to the point of breaking, 

an angel’s tears
blot out the way ahead.

 

Published in “Issue 5: Debt” of The Dial

 
 
Shin Hae-uk (Tr. Spencer Lee-Lenfield)

SHIN HAE-UK is the author of the poetry collections Precise Arrangement, Biologicity, syzygy, and Caeciliendless; the essay collections Lives of the Unadults and Book for Just One; the novel The Oneiroelectrical Shop; and Looking Out the Window, a hybrid work of essay and fiction. She holds a doctorate in Korean literature from Korea University and currently teaches creative writing in Seoul, where she resides.

SPENCER LEE-LENFIELD is a writer and Ph.D. candidate in comparative literature at Yale, as well as an assistant editor at The Yale Review.

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The Dark World of Deepfaked Debt