top of page

Issue 4.2

Summer 2024

Yuna Kang

Intersection at 10th and 11th Street

I crunched over pink glass today:


rose petals frosted over the ground, stuck to our pavement like the

stickers-on-oranges you get from the Chinese grocer, it was auspicious

today, and yesterday, the sun narrows her view from fog-lifting


clouds. Like puffs from a Dragon, palaces of sky move above us,


huge landscapes of rain, threatening to pour down. The Lunar New Year began

with a handful of firecrackers that stained the florist’s storefront pink, and then


gentlemen in work suits bought roses by the dozen, laying gold glitter to rest all over

our gutters. The sky withholds her blessings in apprehension, afraid to kiss


our littered ground.

Yuna Kang is a queer, Korean-American writer based in Northern California. She has been published in journals such as Strange Horizons, Sinister Wisdom, and more. They were also nominated for the 2022 Dwarf Stars Award. Their website link is: 

Yuna's Book Recommendations

Mooncrumbs by Sheila Dong

Bluets by Maggie Nelson

Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz

My Baby First Birthday by Jenny Zhang.


Oakland for me is a site of continual awe and sadness. I do not think I will ever be able to reconcile how this city is able to be such a font of joy and beauty and pain, all at once, its truth a shocking multiplicity. The poem I’ve written here is part of a handful of pieces drawn on specific locations in Oakland. I was inspired by seeing the aftermath of Lunar New Year celebrations in historic Chinatown, all the beauty, all the reckless mess.

bottom of page