All posts by Kamiel Choi

I am free, because of it

I hear the frequency of my kitchen
the deafening sound of appliances
that killed the wind, the quiet
murmur of the grass and the cicadas
and the death throes of little animals

I try to remember the smell of the earth
her dirt, her ashes, her streams, her stones
her forests, her oceans, the long traces
of life in her atmosphere. Instead

I glance at plywood fronts and plastic
and marble and steel and glass and all
brand new, and clean. Inert, threatening
to kill me

I am organic life forgetting itself
forgetting that time is in order
and that I am free, because of it

the gizzard of Halcyon

The world is a forest
we cheapskate light on the forest floor
high above flies the body of the bird
of cool. We fools look up to see if she’s gone

halcyon, junky of the cloudless skies
deal me more words, I want to play.
I want to prove I’m here
I want the spirits to turn me on
and live as long as the fish
who dies in the gizzard of halcyon

a dream in the office

they hover over their plastic faces to greet you
and shake you with their immaculate prosthetics
do not to disturb the raging polyps of trust
you came here, dressed in a thin illusion
to overdose your mind on fluorescent dayshifts
to do jawflips for a crustaceous boss
who wanks silently under his desk in the after hours

plastic cups are recycled here

reality is sold back to you as anti-dandruff shampoo
under the condition that you stick around

out of the window you see a purposeless mountain
that rests in the shadow of nothing

you are a still a timber frame bolted on love

Death is not my friend

your grave is paid until the end
of the decade
when a yellow bulldozer
comes rolling on the churchyard gravel
somebody is paid to do this,
paid.

it won’t take long, they are discreet
your stone becomes the pavement
on which children meet
or some guy commits a heinous crime

and your memory is strung
around the neck of time