Author Archives: Clara Kang

Renga

Silence

 

The hugest house without life, humming

Bzzzzzzzz Hoooooolahlahlah, a heartbeat. Maybe?

There didn’t appear to be any sign of life in his old, pale, wrinkled body.

His face was as dry as old bread.

And that was all.

 

Despite the better efforts of most tabby cats

Trevor, the British tabby, did the only thing he knew

he put his coffee cup on the table at lunch,

where Amber threw up the day before.

 

“Did you see her today?” I bleated.

“Those are the most straight arms I’ve ever seen!”

Assignment 1: Place Poem

Swings

 

In the midst of stars, books, dreams and dust

An amicable ghost pushing the swings

Back and forth

Back and forth.

 

A swing that is surely more than a decade old

Carrying the anthology of local romance stories

Breakups and closures

As if marking their stories

On a steel-made infrastructure

Would make them permanent.

 

The ghost, now, the only one

To hear and feel the stories

Returning for the same ones

Again and again

Again and again.

 

@1450 Parkway Blvd, Coquitlam, BC V3E 3L2

Event Poem: School Day

Open the door-no, don’t-take a deep breath first.

Now, open the door.

Walk through the corridor pretending making eye contact and saying ‘hi’ to strangers are in your inner nature.

Turn the lock to the right twice, to the left once, to the right once more.

Open the locker door-no, don’t-remove the lock first.

Now, open the locker door.

Put your hurley backpack making sure the logo is facing outwards.

Get your stuff, walk to your classroom, again playing the pretend game.

Open the door-no, don’t-take a deep breath first.

Now, open the door.

A Poem Addressing an Audience

Dear Mom

I am 27,
Not 7.
Be home by midnight, you say.
Nay, I say, nay.
I can walk, run, ride and drive.
I can find my way home.
Men are wolves*;
Taxis are dangerous;
Bears are at large,
You warn.
Puh-lease, I say, please.

 

* In Korean culture, people refer to men as wolves to imply that they are alimalistic and rapacious.