Kenton K. Yee

Two Paper Bags from San Francisco


In the hole with a halo at the center of the galaxy.
In an alley on Nob Hill. Bleacher seats. Getting
kicked out. At the opera. On the bayou. Alligator

steaks. In a laundromat. In daylight and at night.
Asthma. On 33 and 39. In New Haven. In wind
and rain. In coach. On the slopes. In frustration.

On the South Tower Observation Deck. On A/C
Transit. Sharing eggs with my cats. From the gut.
In the waiting room. Birth and death are where

stars are, and stars are where the dark holes are.
Like paper bags blowing along cable car tracks,
I wouldn’t change a damn thing. You came close.




Kenton K. Yee’s recent poems appear (or will soon) in Plume Poetry, Threepenny Review, Constellations, TAB Journal, I-70 Review, Hawaii Pacific Review,, Sugar House Review, McNeese Review, The Lake, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and Rattle, among others. Kenton taught at Columbia University and writes from Northern California.