Naked boy makes light like
mosquito, like

key drunk and the door.
I name a ghost for him.

I don’t care – all boys end.
Light goes, popped story like

wanting any him pushed, sucked
flat mosquito, to door.

I name the ghosts for them. Light
goes, breaking out like

wound-touch, like
school child, like

boy become naked can door.

Light goes.
Naked boy crawls shadow to bed.

His name says he will have
greater fortunes than this.

Sound for ghost goes
kwi-shin

like
boy swallows mosquito, like

boy I kissed once, boy
who swallows his name.

Like

like
boy kiss drunk and the noraebang

song loud as junk food and light
light sour stomach humming light

crystal-spun light
like

anyone turned on,
turned off.

My name says I will have
greater ghosts than this.

-Kat Dixon, Kenning Journal

Tagged: Kat Dixon, Kat Dixon poem, Kenning Journal, light, Light Makes Motion poem, literary journal, modern poetry, poetry