Jane was born in South Korea, but has grown up in Sydney, Australia. She works at the Museum of Contemporary Art and is inspired by paintings, ceramics and music – a lot of which figures in her poetry. Jane studied a B.A. Communications at the University of Technology, Sydney.
This is the dream that most people never have
unless you sleep
It might be a wait
when I am living again
& meant to help men with their desire for a drink
and never ending queries for another
story or reassured lie.
never comes easy to the men
who sleep sound
a terrible day. It doesn’t chase them, this
life and leaves them so free, I’m
constantly stepping over
a gap to make
sound – so
my limbs, how young is my heart & how flex, this muscle,
doesn’t keep me up, and waiting for the next day
or the next, or
to be done.
After today, which really is the hardest part, I’ll
say nothing more & wonder
whether it was right
to ask him an easy question –
it’s put us back in touch. I’ll slip away
right away again.
I won’t come around
and see we both bought black
jumpers by the same
the same wool &
machine & make
but different cut, one for a man’s shoulders
and the other for a girl’s waist.
I’m sure another distant friend might buy
a similar garment to wear
while out for a drink &
I’ll think it’s him because I
look for him everywhere, even though
it was decided – the way
is not enough.
I imagine you sitting there on a box
but it’s alright, there are four hideous chairs & perhaps music, lots
of it, stacked,
you know where everything is.
is the driver to every artwork that you’ve bought
& the posters that you like.
Sometimes, we find another prison to love. Is
freedom an edge that you find on a stage (?)
I’m reminded when you engulf somebody, arms open
her wooden waist
it was always there. A song to grow into & find