Unnamed University, Unnamed City, Unnamed Woman
She lies back, angel wings spread, feet flat, but
arched back allowing head to inhabit old-school gas
oven. Mouth open, nostrils flared, deep inhale is more
than photo-op, it’s real, she’s forever shamed her family
by laying drunk as 18 fellow classmen raped her. Every
person in this town knows what happened, but she is the
one who must take her life to balance family sadness, apply
guilt to those who just avoided jail time conventionally.
Here, where rules so outdated they make the Catholics
look hip, her family will not pursue the raging animals
who committed this atrocity, instead they’ll be consoled
by funeral guests, and their money. According to the
Confucian beliefs (held more dear in Korea than China
these days by a long shot) it would be harder for her
family to go on if she was alive to tell the story.
You don’t have to cry about this, many already have.
These “men” walk free to start university life, having
completed “Membership Training,” the custom in which
families pay extra for weekend retreats and the school
sanctions and organizes: alcohol, food, pajamas, rape?
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