Kevin Kaiser

Poem One

twitching


this key opens this door,
lets you within where
this key opens this door,
lets you within where
i am searching for cats
and moving in

is it hard to say goodbyes?
variations on a key
and the rumble of trucks:
does not vibrate the universe
like the ecstatic purr
of miniature tigers

distant and measuring
the space between bodies–
we were born apart,
and the greater the span
the more we yearn
to move in

these greetings that lap
like tongue to paw
to the body around you,
a spiral of rooms and doors–
see how it twitches,
the tip of a tail


Poem Two


encampment


gray smoke caterpillars
over shoulders bare
in this fallen house
of morning’s blue ceiling,
damp and floral-floored

we cocoon in silken skin,
await emergence– another pine,
weary in evergreen,
creaks, collapses
in soundless thunder

forgotten embers sparkle
like constellations fading
or butterflies
that stretch their wings
to flutter last night’s stardust



Poem Three


swinging for the ages


how long
since i last sat
upon the black seat,
hung from chains,
swinging higher
higher, higher,
unafraid to leap off
at the top?



Kevin Kaiser was born and raised in Orange County, California and is now working towards his MFA in Creative Writing at Chatham University in Pittsburgh. His fiction and poetry is internationally published or is upcoming in Paradigm Shift, Frame Lines, Filling Station, Sein und Werden and online at Six Sentences and Bull. He has little interest in grounding his readers, and prefers to extradimensionally displace them.