Mother’s Kitchen
something about mother’s kitchen always holds steady. / i think it’s partly wisps of green tea
entwining with the rambling of those sketchy Chinese news outlets / but also partly the chubby
yet scrimpy stamps of little Satan arriving. / plastic insulation films, purple-brown lilacs,
monotonous diamond white-grey tiles; / static life / whatever it is, i find oddly homey.
entwining with the rambling of those sketchy Chinese news outlets / but also partly the chubby
yet scrimpy stamps of little Satan arriving. / plastic insulation films, purple-brown lilacs,
monotonous diamond white-grey tiles; / static life / whatever it is, i find oddly homey.
Kevin Zhu (he/him) is a 17 y/o Chinese-American writer and musician from Long Island, New York. As a poet and journalist, his work has been recognized by INKSOUNDS, COUNTERCLOCK, X-R-A-Y, Bennington College, and Scholastic Writing Awards. He is the editor-in-chief of The Incandescent Review and is often confused with a college student going through a quarter-life crisis.
Beaver Magazine 