Whan (Ben) Kim
Class of 2016
Choking in a scarf of cold flies
Stands a brick home in winter dread
‘Olding my breath, I step
Over the mat, into the hall,
Up the stairs, enter the room.
Drowning in dust, dirt, and dreams
Sits a lime-green man survived by tubes.
Eons have passed so it seems
In this room
Where time sleeps, its wings broken.
Round the bed I hang
Laundries of questions worn day and night
Until it’s time to go.
Eye captures lovebirds singing love love love
In a metal palace with spiral staircases, query oblivious to
Driving with tepid coffee and empty gaze,
I see in my rear mirror
home choking in a scarf of cold flies.
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