Poem 1, 2, 3

A surreal watercolour painting of a black sky, red sea, and green creatures. Many planets seem to rise in the sky, and there appear to be gohsts and amoebas coming out of the sea.
Image by Max Puorro.


Audio transcription:


I knew of an asian man. His body was small and he was going blind. He quit his office job and was training to become a masseur – to see with his hands while his eyes cease to see. He was a devout christian and was known to pray for many hours every day. People called him a holy man. One time, I went to his place to get a massage. After the massage, he prayed for me. As I was about to leave, he smirked and told me to never bring a black man home because that would make my mother go into a long fast. 

I don’t even like men, I think 
standing there 
looking into his blank eyes 

I like to sin 
I thank god that he is going blind 

I think of her black hands caressing my inner thighs and her voice softly speaks, spread your legs, with a half question mark lingering at the end


spread your legs … ?


the question mark 
pulls us

us two 
just two 
question marks

floating in our worlds 
not looking 
for answers

but sometimes 
longing for 
a burning touch 
to feel we 
still are here

in this

writing this in a small room in sassnitz where I stay for cheap in exchange for
work the host keeps calling me mulan


you know

I’m asian

I don’t mind

because here

I’m here

to see the big water 

to put my heart down

seeking for 

a moment of rest


I undo your gold cross necklace
that you’ve worn your whole
life layers of your black curly
hair tightly tangled around the
clasp not letting the necklace to
open I break the hair apart 
your bare body
without the cross
until you cry for
drip words about


너는 애기 때 징그럽게 예뻤어 
개새끼처럼 뒤뚱뒤뚱 거리면서

when you were a baby 
you were disgustingly pretty 
toddling around like 
a son of a bitch

these words are tender 
these words are love 
my grandma 

the air you talked about 

my grandma is just waiting to die 
I saw an old woman dying from choking on a piece of
potato I didn’t know that a human’s face could turn
so blue

made me want to cause 

we were sitting in a 

you said 
if you were to be facing death 
you’d get married 
just to see what happens 
you’d have children 
just to see what happens

I often do things just to see what happens 
even when I don’t actually really want to do them

wind blows 
across our faces
you’ve always liked watching my hair in
wind strands of my hair enter my mouth
which I slowly open

are you seeing me 
just to see what happens?

wind blows 
through the space 
between our bodies 
carries us 

this is my memory of the death between us 

one afternoon 
in a windy green cemetery 
toddling around like a son of a
bitch looking disgustingly

too sweet 
too sick


Poems by Inky Lee

Header Image by Max Puorro

Inky Lee is an interdisciplinary artist and writer living in Berlin.