A Jong Oh Poem by Marc J. Straus
BETWEEN TWO DOORS (ELEMENT-1)
Jong Oh; Wood, metal, string, paint; 2012
A streak of sunlight lifted off the brown fetid water and touched
the corner of the calf’s eye. My mother was calling me to come in
from the riverbed in Mauritania where mothers call in seventy languages;
mine had the sound of a viola string, taut and twanging in the heat.
Then I remember my father’s voice cutting through the cacophony
of the Pusan fish market which he ran. What was there to do but play
with eels wriggling on the floor? One large blowfish still had catgut
extended from its mouth and I wound the other end around a nail.
Here in New York the moon is yawning through my studio window.
The horizon is a tenement and then a sliver of the Empire State
Building, and the cadence of two girls jumping rope. I move a shard
of Plexi slightly to the right. I love this brass knob I found today.
Marc J. Straus