top of page
  • Susanna Lang

Unnamed Road

Jungjin Lee

Not only the road wanders without a name.

This shrouded woman climbing the steps beside the road

and the man who, arms akimbo, walks through another frame

where a low wall marks the edge of the road.

And then a child, sitting alone, unprotected.

Perhaps an abandoned truck without a license.

But for most of its length, the road has been stripped

of everything but its own surface, shining a little

in the black and white light of what has happened and happened again,

in these unresolved angers and inexcusable lapses.

Here a doorway, outlined but unopened.

There an infinite expanse of bricks that do not adhere to each other.

The light is constant and unforgiving.

Unwilling to turn away.

as published in december magazine 28:2

Recent Posts

See All

from My Soul Has No Corners

poetry by Souad Labbize, translated by Susanna Lang My soul has no corners when I return with an armload of new grief I can’t find anything like the corner of a table where I could have a snack next t

The World With Its Relentless Pull

We shed our days, the shiny mornings when we drank espresso at a sidewalk table painted blue while parents walked their children and their dogs to school, and the blur of late nights when the phone ra


A child, could be six years old, clings to the maple, halfway up or halfway down— * * * * * a burl in the shape of a child, her knees drawn up to her belly. And it’s raining again. * * * * * I was six


bottom of page