Look back: Kiik AK - The Radvocate #13

Posted in Kiik Araki-Kawaguchi, Issue #13, So Say We All

Pretty sure this monkey is Korean tho

Kiik AK may very well be Jesus Christ in disguise, but then again, the mustache isn't convincing enough. I unknowingly first heard/met Kiik through a project of his called Drive-By Cinema - a travelling movie screen via truck that brought classic films wherever it went. Only when we were formally introduced years later did I realize that Kiik was also a very gifted poet & writer, with a scary amount of talent. Seriously. I didn't come out of my bedroom for weeks, fearing Kiik's talent would be lying in wait to gobble me up. A graduate of the UCSD MFA program, the Clarion Writer's Workshop, and having work featured in  Pleiades, Connotation Press, The Southeast Review, iO, Washington Square and Alice Blue Review, we are honored to have Kiik in the ranks of those featured in The Radvocate Issue 13. No matter how (allegedly) bad he is at badminton. 

For your reading pleasure, here are three poems from Kiik which were first printed in Issue #13.

only vultures

I want you to think I am sensitive and

Not only a asshole most of the time

I cry about things sometimes

I cry so much when a dolphin is murdered

I cry about happy things too

Susan Boyle sings really good

I think what a magnificent noise

Coming from that disheveled woman’s face

Think what’s possible if the singer

Is actually more hotter

That is the definition of a angel

When a woman stuns you twice

First by being attractive

And then by having another quality

She’s a doctor

Or says funny things

She didn’t hear from anywhere else

She thought them with her actual mind

Stunning women are life’s great miracles

Dolphins are number two followed by magicians

Disheveled women have their role too

But they don’t exactly make me doubt

A cruel random nucleus is swallowing

Our universe from its own fucking asshole

Is there God or only vultures

Waddling with their pincers out?

I don’t think I’m perfect

I go to the gym a perfect amount

But I’m still probably only a 8 or a 9

That’s for white women

Asian woman standards I get somewhat better

But could you ever truly call a Asian trustworthy?

I am changing my mind on this all the time

I know I could never marry or be driven by a Asian

But could I ever actually value what a Asian thinks

Of my existence moving around on its muscles

You shouldn’t think all I do is go to the gym and get strong

I am no vampire to avoid looking at my reflection

I like to laugh and look out at the stars

What do you think is out there?

I do think sometime in our lifetime

I will have to fight a alien

Do you think he will be all slimy?

I will have to fight him and maybe I’ll die

I hope I die deflecting his slime to save you

I hope I cook down beside you

As I sit up my face somehow still fastened to the gravel

It sputters back it is a rash upon the rock

My muscles flare underwater

My horns fill with tears

I hope I hear you say I am still worth recovering

pulled down the stairs, dragged through the lawn

I would like for you to try and kill me

I would like for you to try and strangle me in the shower

I would like if you had no hair when you strangled me

It is not that I am upset by hair

It is that I know you are not the type to give away your DNA casually

I want you to take killing seriously

I want you to be naked when you try and kill me

Because you remember how liberal I am with DNA

You will not like it to muck up your dress

You will want to easily spray the DNA

From your apparently prepubescent body

You are a fan of convenience and the godliness 

Of a shaved woman beneath running water

I would like for you to fail

I do not want to die just as I am getting the exact thing 

I’ve always wanted

I would like to pass out and for you to think I expired

I would like you to lean in real close near my face with a feather

But for the vane to be too dampened to detect breathing

I would like for you to slap me a little

And pinch the tip of my cock between your fingernails

I would like you to decide you will drag me 

Into the woods in my shower curtain

I would like to be wrapped up like a leftover in my curtain

And pulled down the stairs, through the kitchen

I would like for you to be sweating

And complaining about how heavy I am

I would like you to get embarrassed when you are caught

By police when dragging me through the lawn

I would like you to say it isn’t what it looks like

And we are just playing a game

I would like to see you several times in court over the coming years

I would like for you to be wearing an unflattering prison jumpsuit

And for your mane to be growing in thickly

I would like for you to be forced to talk about me

About how you wrapped me in a curtain and tested my cock

I want you to say you are sorry

Even though you are assuredly less than sorry

I want you to dream of me

When trying to achieve a blackness of your mind

My bright body at the ends of your arms

a trumpet

The only reason you find this funny

Is you were expecting poetry

And not this other thing

About when this lamb farted

Usually when you are walking beside a lamb

That’s farting you pretend not to hear it

We call that being polite

To the friend trying to teach you about lambs

You do not want to say astonished

I think your lamb is doing farts right now

Most people have heard lambs farting

But not many write poems because of it

Most people forget

But I won’t forget you, little lamb

Little lamb of painful, crampy gas

And a wee mist of diarrhea

Every time I spell diarrhea I have to look it up

I always think there should be two h’s

I am being careful!

Choosing just the right words

The fart was really loud!

Somehow you expected it would get muffled

Under all that wool

Like a pillow placed over the face of a loved one

But there is that lamb butthole

Raised like a little gray trumpet

Without so much wool around it

To say hush little lamb fart

A lot of people think they can get up here

And do what I do

And they’re right

But who asks for this embarrassment 

No one gives you cash money for that

Someone might give you money for the lamb

To cook and carry out the lamb

To sew the lamb into a purse or mask

But no one will pay for what is brief

And animal as exhalation

Though it smelled of yarrow, white sage

And a wafer of volcanic ash

And when you strangled it

It sounded something like music