We carve on our body what society teaches us and continue this task, not knowing the identity they force us to have. This identity is carved on our faces and our skins. Not knowing our bodies have become "the paper made of human meat," we stuff our bodies and make them a theater where cultural symbols or suppressed symbols play.

My tough and grotesque images were thrown on the roads and were stepped on by my critics, and I was talked about with scorn. I felt regret that readers only seemed to like something they were accustomed to.

The body of poetry is nothing but energy, waves, rhythm.

Our mothers who have gone are buried in our bodies. It can be said that we were born with dead mothers in our body.

Women in Korean myths disappear after giving birth. The reason they were born is to produce sons.

The grotesque in my poems is the motion I use to put myself and the grotesque world together. So the miserable images I use in my poems are the same as the letters I send into the miserable world.

Mother does not exist, like water that has given life to a flower and then disappeared. Mothers live somewhere after giving birth to us.