Mother is a synonym for abandonment and death. Comparing this synonym to water, it is like poured-out water. I call it mother, the identity that I cannot identify.

When I became a poet, the Korean literary world expected women poets to sing passively of love. Naturally, this was not written anywhere, but this rule existed nonetheless. Consequently, I received plenty of serious criticism.

When anger and sorrow overflow, sometimes it becomes poetry.

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

When I first started to write poetry, I used to feel as if my tongue would go numb.

If someone asks, Is anyone alive? Break, your, head, open, and, show, your, ten, ta, cle.

I have to reach "the poetry condition" to write. Then it is as if the border around me is thinned or blurred or erased or disappeared or dead.