Korean Poetry

Here's a stanza I just came across in Don Mee Choic's "The Anxiety of Words: Contemporary Poetry by Korean Women" (Zephyr Press). It's from the poem "La La La, There's No Way of Knowing" by Yi Yon-ju:

Existence, are you playing cute because you've been taken hostage?
Cocaine, so called art, voraciously sucks up black milk
and has been contemptuous to 270 tiny bones, but why
has the helicopter come again today, hovering by the window, and?...