Andy Kim
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prototype Jesa (제사)
a plastic tub of lettuce said, “wednes
dinner collard 1 2/9”
a pair of hands reach in; pulling apart
cabbage, milky greens dipped in rice wine.
on a pedestal, an exhibit,
a blue and white bowl, chipped; and sparsely spread with
two parts this. & one part
mothers who ask, “stack pears.” or “cakes.” or
explain simply: the dead, dying, or has died; a present, perfect
splayed over yesterday’s New York Times.
bow deeply, now. once set, place your hands on the ground; your head on your—
no, not; deeper, and utmost.
sparse, very few words between puffs of cigarette
smoke: “it’s only natural, a natural thing to do.” they said
and they closed their mouths, and their eyes, and
they ate.
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Andy Kim was born in Seoul and raised in Dallas. He is a law student in New York, working on his first collection (and the occasional short story).