I thought Death would come in gently
& sweet talk my mom. Offer his arm & charm
her. Take her to dinner & lay it on thick, like
the hoser from Merrill Lynch did. But he
sneaks into her place & shuffles things
around so she can’t find her keys. Croons
in her ear when she’s talking to the doctor
so she can’t keep it straight if it’s one pill
or three. Lulls her to sleep while the stove
is on so she wakes to the shrieks of the smoke
alarm. Scoops up the mail and tosses it in
the grate so not one of the bills gets paid.
I see what he’s doing. He’s dragging it out,
like a cat with a mouse. Taking the time to
showcase his craft in each and every house.
Thistles
I lost my mother, I lost
my mortal enemy.
A demolitions expert
who passed the time
planting IEDs
in this head of mine.
She had me beat,
and she knew it.
Which is why I’m surprised
she died and blew it.
Now, like every great warrior of yore
whose foe has run off,
I wander muddy fields, lost,
dragging a cape
caught with thistles,
banging my sword
on tree stumps and fence posts,
bellowing at the crows,
Why doesn’t freedom
feel like a fullness?
Claire Jean Kim is on the faculty at the University of California, Irvine, where she teaches classes on racial justice and human-animal studies. She is the author of three award-winning scholarly books. Her poems have been published in or are forthcoming in Rising Phoenix Review, Terrain.org, Tiger Moth Review, Anthropocene, Bracken, The Ilanot Review, Ghost City Review, The Summerset Review, Great River Review, TriQuarterly, Anacapa Review, Slipstream Press, The Lincoln Review, Arc Poetry, Pinch, The American Poetry Journal, North American Review, The Indianapolis Review, ONE ART, and The Missouri Review. The Lincoln Review nominated her poem “Things to do on a Fulbright fellowship in Japan” for Best of the Net in 2025. Terrain.org nominated her poem “Mastodon” for the Best New Poets anthology in 2024. The Missouri Review featured her poem “Amsterdam” as a “Poem of the Week” in January 2025.