A little bit more serious.
OK, so this is going back to Korea, where she was--
it goes back into her life story of her growing up
in this poor southern region of South Korea
during a series of dictatorships in the '60s and the '70s.
And this is about when she was born.
"Song that Breaks the World Record"
"I was born in first day o' unrest.
Huzzah!
The students who fight in police boy patos.
In gangrene smoke, youngins true, butane colas
chanted poor ole cantaka Rhee to step down.
He did, chased out on a perma-holiday, Hawaii him Elba.
Fizzy ale spill in streets.
Korea celebrating.
No money for balloon swine y ticker tape parade,
but Koreans have unabashed national succotash.
Whole country batty drunk, aroused like a itchy Veegra
man.
All but my mother, mater, Alore.
Drunk medics swished out clinics to celebre,
so she allim she self alone in hospital, yowling from labor.
But expert she is.
Bore ten chilluns whom all die before reachum age one.
Her heart, a grave o' infants, me tragic mum.
Breathes, she pansori's breath like fire breathe accordion.
Pop me out.
Me yell.
Father hid home, hiding from froth of birth's labor y labor
o revolution.
I'se boomerang out, slipshod on to blood tile floor,
a squalling bile newborn.
So happy, she rasp songs (WHISPERING)
sotto voce after I's born.
See, she voce so famous, a fable of myths, even
now samsy you can buy her CD in the world muzak section.
No pullem you leg.
She singsong longest song ever, singing rasping raus pain.
Mind the gap, by the way.
Hocking, coughing, with one beat till husking one note, con ko
bell, she like a bayou wailer.
In stubbled field, etched by winter's acid light,
she retch her notes.
Y specter's wall of sound chilled a tympanum
o all the saram pause listen and cry, cry.
You cry for being a cursed Korean.
Singing while carrying me bundle home
till I's a week old before she collapsed to she death.
She hum her last notes.
A martyr spun nettle out of silk-shorn dress,
a lice laced boot to my heart, in Angyang, I rest."