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In 2005 I spent four months living and working in Seoul, Republic of Korea, thanks to the University of Melbourne’s Asialink programme. During my residency, I visited approximately 40 PC방 (PC bang, Internet gaming rooms) and ‘live-wrote’ a series of prose poems about imaginary cities. Combined digital and print reissue scheduled for 2020.
City of radiation and pliers. To find meaning in the ad breaks between sutras. City of radio free emoticons. Television is a sheet of glass between eternity and magnetism. Decomposition comes naturally. We are of the worm. This electronic charge…
City of vapour trails and suns that set like eggs in a sky of brandy. City of drivers on auto-pilot and air pregnant with the rumour of the first snow. Snow so fine it falls in shards and can only…
City of emphasis mines and gravity bombs, assassination attempts and mourning news. City of lightning and turtle boat people. City of city slickers in emergency ponchos goose-stepping through puddles of rainbow-infected grease. Monumental city, shouldered with statues of great and…
City of sandy streets in a lonely tear gas nation. City of secret cities and minimal identification requirements. City of corkscrews. Dawn breaks across the children’s playground, the eerie neon of the all-night soju bar casting a sick light over…
City of dictator beige and magic honey. City of forbidden city kisses. City of pedals, of monument-scrapers. Torn away, postcards of atomic revenge from the wreckage of timecodes for the lonely or the plain-old bugged. I yearn for a simple…
Turning upon the incendiary maple, coming down on an avenue of triumph. Hitting the kerbs with my new street sweepers, modelling my hips on the alpha nerd. Lips close tight on immediate gum. I’ve got a fistful of angry bleeps.…
City of hunger and dirty palms. City of manicured lawns and torn shirtsleeves. Evening yawns, the comforting sound of soccer commentary like little grains of rice on a tin roof. City of red meat patties and yellow potato pancakes. City…
City of riotous dance halls and movies that never end. I’m driving down an expressway lined with newly-planted palm trees in a hire car, the rental on which never seems to end. The harbour twinkles in the sunset and I…
City of incompatible systems, apocalyptic notations and superannuated evangelists. City of identical bookstores and foreigners prowling carpark stoops for keys, wallets, hearts. City of rude one-word email responses and grumpy old men found while randomly searching catalogues for grumpy old…