Meet Me at Three O’clock at the LerDevagar Bookstore

By Jo Eun Young, Republic of Korea; translated by Jung Slin

Dear Zeze’s one and only Mister Portuga,

My teacher asked about Papa and

Got a packed lunch from Mama, but the next day

He left a thick book only in the next desk over.

So I tear out the last page and go

To Lisbon

To the bookstore LerDevagar

The workwoman who bikes across the store each day

Wrote poetry and was fired from the print shop, they say

Against the screaming pages

Her fingertips come into bloom

When her feet hum round and round the pedals

Songs in canon rouse from slumber to form a path

I cut the wire around my chest

And put up my hair in a gentle bun

When the sun shines at a three o’clock tilt

The scenery hiding underfoot unwraps its belt

A shadow has sunk its teeth into my dusty feet

And when its slant leans to the left

I take one slow stroll around the bookstore

In the bookshelf, three sections from the leftmost end

I’ll hide two books, and between the pages will be

Dried carnations once slipped into the muzzles of guns

I’ll ask for an Espresso• with one drop of ink

Only when the dust peeled naked by the sun

Falls onto the shattered mirror

Sound out my name backwards, Dear Mister Portuga

The name my teacher never said

And meet me at three o’clock

At the LerDevagar bookstore

•The LerDevagar bookstore was once a print shop, where the first issue of the Portuguese newspaper Espresso was printed. It was also the epicenter of the bloodless 1974 revolution known as the CarnationRevolution.