It's Still Life

Korean Gogyohka Poems for a Lazy Spring Afternoon

Seven Small Gods of Laggardy

For those who linger. For those who hesitate with purpose. For those who have made an altar of the undone.

(A Nap’s Prelude)

Sunlight pools like spilled honey—
eyelashes catching the light,
delicate as dandelion seeds
bargaining
with the dilatory breeze.

(The Shedding)

You shrug off time’s jacket,
let it crumple to the floor—
noon’s slow tongue licks
the salt from your collarbone,
a flavor called almost-dreaming.

(The Interruption)

A single bee stumbles
through the window’s aria,
its buzz the only stitch
holding the afternoon together—
don’t wake, not yet.

(The Aftermath)

Your dreams bloom a murmur,
something about peaches or God—
the curtain applauds softly,
while the clock, ever dilatory,
forgets to count your breaths.

(The Offering)

I gather the stray heat
from your tangled hair,
knead it into a coin
to pay the ferryman—
may this crossing take all day.

(Dilatory Hearts)

My coffee grows cold
while the morning presses
its hands to the hour—
I am a master of dilatory,
kissing you in slow motion.

(Dilatory Vows)

The clock melts
into honey—
time sticks to our lips
like a vow
we can’t swallow.

(Pocketed Light)

My pocket hums
with your crumpled syllables—
don’t let the day
slip by like a dilatory ghost
kissing doorknobs goodbye.