Mirrors of Ugliness
Don't Know: don't know: don't know
whether the physical error I must be (the constant
sense of being Outside, outside the shutters
of my eyes = an imaginative construct of my brain's
electrically-strung bulge into the fearful (blood)less locus of margins.
I ,being one Korean-American, who actually knows
my face to be a mask - a magnification of images
dashing through the veins of the media, the) CPU ( the new God who
rushes me inward, inward into nothingness. Or whether
I believe Caucasians to be so everything
that I, being so far something else,
must be a profane sublimeness
with the depth of a well?