Astronomer
you said, in a waverly place diner
that love is like the flu –
uncontrollable,
a whirlwind,
leaving you
misty-eyed
and wondering
seriously, am I already out of tissues…
but over thick cut fries
and an omelet,
I surrendered
my immunity.
outside
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
influentia,
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
observatory.
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 kennethlim.contently.com.