Phan, Kevin

United States, (contemporary)

Some Things Which Filled Us with a Sense of Loitering

  1. Rose bushes we failed to water died
  2. in rows. In wheelbarrows we stacked
  3. hundreds for the compost.
  4.  
  5. A drift of pigs on the loose
  6. crashed the apple orchard –
  7. our sweetness, plundered.
  8.  
  9. The economy of bruises.
  10. “Eyes for an eye” or
  11. “karmic debt.”
  12.  
  13. A country dog flagpole-chained
  14. on a tight ligature at the vineyard –
  15. her water bowl chipped, in dust.
  16.  
  17. Orson’s ingrown toe suddenly pulsed
  18. green viscous, & Doctor Whoever
  19. hoisted the snipped toe between forceps.
  20.  
  21. Pigs trucked along Highway 1.
  22. 5 A.M. Pink snouts jabbed through
  23. half-rotted planks.
  24.  
  25. The instant the hillside eroded
  26. our temple backslid, gold-leaf
  27. & statues peppered the hillock.
  28.  
  29. 85-hour work weeks. My spine
  30. compacted under brick loads –
  31. bloody stools dyed the toilet water.

© Kevin Phan. Crab Orchard Review. “The West Coast & Beyond,” Vol. 19 No. 2 S/F 2014.

About the Poet:

Kevin Phan, United States, (contemporary) is a poet, a former volunteer Buddhist monk/construction worker and now works in the maintenance of athletic facilities.

Phan graduated from the University of Michigan with an M.F.A. in Creative Writing in 2013 and is a former Helen Zell Writer’s Postgraduate Fellow from U of M. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Fence, Pleiades, Gulf Coast, Colorado Review, Poetry Northwest, Crab Orchard Review, and elsewhere. The Buddha is his homeboy. [DES-11/19]