Two Poems by Kenneth Lim / by Kenneth Lim




you said, in a waverly place diner

that love is like the flu –


a whirlwind,

leaving you



and wondering

seriously, am I already out of tissues…


but over thick cut fries

and an omelet,

I surrendered

my immunity.



God was skipping stars,

tossing constellations

above us.

I heard someone say

bless you,

as I walked down

the moonlit avenue


the word flu comes from


Latin for the influence

of celestial bodies

on the human body.


I still get the chills

whenever we pretend

we’re astronomers

in our diner-booth





Cooking For Two


we say some things best in smoke

so I’ll singe this fish for you.

sweet glaze burns fast

when we linger a little too long.





Kenneth Lim is a Singaporean poet and journalist currently based in NYC. Find him at