it's not Thursday, but I got POETRY #APHM

Jeju Island
 ~E. J. Koh

Everything in the beginning is the same.
Clouds let us look at the sun.

Words let us watch a man about to be killed.
The eye-hollows of his skull see home.

When they stone him,
he knows what a stone is—each word, a stone:

The hole of his nose
as dark as the door I pass through.

The hole of his nose as dark as the door
I pass through. Blowing bubbles,

I wander the halls numerously.
He’s no longer my grandfather in weight.

Among old bodies piled high, they aim.
Living can tranquilize you.

Copyright © 2018 E. J. Koh. Used with permission of the author.