après retourner à seoul
to listen to canto city
pop on a plane.
behind the curtain,
many breathe in ambient
lighting.
a sad person who lingers
in guesthouses, overstays their welcome,
looks for family
not knowing what they will find.
in the air, there are no rules
about who gets to touch the clouds.
to send a missile and protect a place
not yours but very much yours,
all in the name of peace.
on tv, all the sad people come from
paris. they find their way
anywhere else.
underground dance spaces filled
with bodies, charismatic singers
not to forget. the artist
insists on celebrating a birthday,
the reminder of loss.
pop on a plane.
behind the curtain,
many breathe in ambient
lighting.
a sad person who lingers
in guesthouses, overstays their welcome,
looks for family
not knowing what they will find.
in the air, there are no rules
about who gets to touch the clouds.
to send a missile and protect a place
not yours but very much yours,
all in the name of peace.
on tv, all the sad people come from
paris. they find their way
anywhere else.
underground dance spaces filled
with bodies, charismatic singers
not to forget. the artist
insists on celebrating a birthday,
the reminder of loss.
March 2025
Kika Man 文詠玲 (they/them) is a writer from Belgium and Hong Kong. Kika writes about their mixed heritage, mental health, about music and blueness. They grapple daily with the question of where one community starts and the other ends, they emphasize tenderness and platonic affections above all. They are one of the founding members of Slam-T (spoken word & slam poetry platform) and a PhD Candidate in Cultural Studies at the Chinese University of Hong Kong working on queer/ing zines. Kika is the author of Let the Mourning Come (Prolific Pulse LLC, 2022) and they have been published in Capsule Stories, Anti-Heroin Chic, Bridge and others.
You can find Kika on Twitter and Instagram @kikawinling.
You can find Kika on Twitter and Instagram @kikawinling.
Art: Claire Tang, Pushing Up Daisies. Oil on canvas.