GREG KAN 

 

The bear-suit

 
The bear-suit is a plant 

The bear-suit is a plant that climbs aggressively around the moon 

It will reach down into the world 

It will take you to the moon 

You know the moon where the bear-suit lives 

You know because you came from there too 

 

Home

 
Here you are 

Here you are afraid of the bear-suit 

Here you are the house 

Here you are the gate 

Here in the middle of the table is a bar of soap, burning 

You are intoxicated by the smell 

 

Supermarket

 

What did you see, the stranger said, emerging from the sliding doors 

A woman in yellow stepped out of a tree 

Bleached owl heads fell like stones 

And my socks grew unreasonably thick, I replied 

Just then I noticed the green rope that ran around the stranger’s chest and up to the moon 

You will never catch me, bear-suit 

And then I was gliding away on a shopping trolley 

 

Infiltration

 
One night, you woke in the bear-suit’s dream 

The bear-suit dreamed of your striped socks 

The bear-suit dreamed of your ceiling 

The bear-suit even dreamed of your parents 

Your mother, who was bald 

And your father, who had hair growing from his eyes 

Quickly, you put your parents in the ceiling 

And the ceiling in your socks 

And your socks in her baldness 

And her baldness in his eyes 

And then you fastened the dream shut with a red paperclip, which is the moon’s enemy 

And laughed your way into new leaves 

 

To the bear-suit

 

Is it strange sometimes I think I’m you, I said 

The bear-suit replied, Just go outside, because I love your boredom 

And your boredom eats me and releases me behind the apple trees, where it is safe 

Let’s climb trees 

I might pull your hair 

 

The moon

 
One night, I woke to find myself on the moon 

On the moon, I learnt 

I learnt a lot 

I learnt that the moon is really an endless beach 

Off of which the world sinks, turning in dark waters 

I learnt that birds were once made of leaves 

And that we fell, leaf-first, from pieces of coal 

I learnt how easy it is to get to the moon 

All you have to do is 

Lie naked on the bedroom floor 

Hold a brick with both hands 

Say, I am so happy to see you again 

And wait 

As the brick falls through your stomach 

And then through the earth 

Dragging you behind it 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gregory Kan graduated from the University of Auckland with a BA in English and Philosophy. He also attended the Iowa Workshop in Poetry at the International Institute of Modern Letters in early 2010. His writing has appeared in a number of print and online publications including brief, Percutio, otoliths, Blackmail Press and most recently the Auckland-based anthology Live Lines IV.

 

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