Flight
48 Flight Chung Mong-Hun was a Hyundai heir and executive who jumped from the 12th floor of the Hyundai building after he was caught illegally transferring $500 million to North Korea to secure an inter-Korean summit. You hate the body because it can be broken. House a pump in four chambers and it will run but it won’t last from the 12th floor down. At first the heart is just a tube, like a fish’s heart. Later we make it pretty like a valentine, to mask its true ugliness— honeycombs of mucus and membrane, chordae tendinae. The impact is what breaks it, this thing that wasn’t meant to break, suddenly a heap of dung on the greenbelt, and now they lie everywhere— on lawns, on sidewalks, in waters. You love the body because it can be broken, gun to mouth, razor across wrist, hypodermic with insulin, off a bridge, a building, car on railroad tracks, toaster in tub, just ignite the engine and breathe, make sure it’s at least twelve stories and the ground is paved. They say if you take drugs, quit. If you smoke, quit. If you embezzle, quit. He left his glasses and watch on his desk. Take your last flight with a crane who must fly over the Himalayas. Birds live in a rush, they breathe faster, 49 heart beats faster, body temperature is higher. Birds have a backbone. Birds die faster. Have you ever seen a gull riding a trade wind? Or a gooney bird land? It starts falling and crash lands on its nose. We can’t do what the bird does naturally. Something in us is always trying. Line 1 is from “Animal Farm, Song of the Colonel Governor-General” by Suji Kwock Kim, Notes from the Divided Country. ...
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