Kim Shuck
Kim Shuck is a vibration and a particle. Author of a couple of hands full of solo books and editor of that many again, Kim organizes at least three poetry events a month. Shuck served as the 7th poet laureate of San Francisco. Her latest book is November Dance Shirt.
Photo by Douglas A. Salin
Artwork Gallery
Photos by Douglas A. Salin
Previously printed in Uncommon Ground: BIPOC Journeys to Creative Activism, Pease Press, 2022.
1. “Rattle Frog"
2. “Squirrel”
3. “Axolotl”
4. “Anniversary Balls”
Artist Statement on the Beaded Balls:
Roughly ten years ago I met my current love, Doug Salin. Doug was a big baseball fan and I am a bead artist. The origins of the idea of beading a baseball are lost in time, but we agree that the first idea was something we talked out together. Since then I bead him a ball every year as an anniversary gift. Sometimes I'm a little late on delivery. Neither of us thought that I'd be doing so much writing. The process involves stripping the leather off of the ball and replacing it with deerhide that I can bead into. I have to do the beading on the balls because the surface is curved and otherwise the beading would pull. The beads are very small, size 15 for the most part. Each ball has a funny, baseball related name. Doug enjoys them as much as I enjoy creating them.
5. “With a Sweep of His Wings: Homage to Satchel Paige”
6. “Funny Hop”
7. “Nice Catch”
Frog
When the first four-legged frog cousin
Pulled herself out of water it wasn’t rejection
Soft wet skin called her back again and again
Blood a
Contract with water a
Promise in the cells a
Rattle we pick up and hand on a
Moaning song that arches and
Clenches to
Bring our babies cradled in
Water a
Gift returned a
Rattle we pick up and
Hand over one
Generation to the next
—from Exile Heart
Previously printed in Civil Liberties United: Diverse Voices from the San Francisco Bay Area, Pease Press, 2019.
Axolotl
We are hunting the graveyards and
Practicing fly-casting off of the roof at 4am
It must be summer
I paint the symbols on my feet
Study the evolution of bats and
21stcentury poetry of the 600 block of Chenery
Oh child
I braid you into my hair most days
And I’m the only one who can read you there
But then
We are descended from the symbolic dead and
I’m becoming the old woman out of those stories
If not as quickly as I’d hoped
—from Pick a Garnet to Sleep In
The End of the Drought
(pairs with "Squirrel")
Panic is a luxury for those
Who are only in danger
Seasonally
Relax between battles
Some people don’t want your
Smile or help
Don’t want you in the neighborhood
they have
Chosen from a catalog
There is a heat that only comes from
these sidewalks
Nowhere else
I can only sleep with my head on the
shoulder of a
Cousin these days
Perilous I understand
Explain to me
What is safe
Away from this kitchen table
Texture and quality of your words and
We weave
Weaving time is here
Sift
Pull
Edit
Manage
Stand with me here
In the ceremony of living
By breathing water
The rain is coming
Relax between battles
Smile or help
there is a heat that only comes from
these sidewalks
What is safe
Weaving time is here
Manage
The rain is coming
Boundaries
It’s dangerous to be a
Secret centuries of practicing
Translucency can render you
Fragile or
Inaudible, changing political fashion regarding
Inclusion can trigger
Chameleon impulses can redraw
Ancient boundaries darker than they
Ever were can even create new
Fences or we can make real choices
Can choose to see one another
Previously printed in Civil Liberties United: Diverse Voices from the San Francisco Bay Area, Pease Press, 2019.
Bilingual
Skin a treaty
Stake it out flat for
Scraping and it will
Barely cover the distance between
Disappointment in a country that made you childish promises and
Our beloved dead arranged end to end from the
Mystic River to Achulet as the
Winter goes by it will go
White and stiff
An inconvenient reminder of things not finished but
Can be softened with random words in languages you don’t
Speak like
Honor tattoos you
Can buy from local artists the hide can
Become a drum head for
Bonding with young people in a nearby park or
Shoe soles for walking a mile
Walking a mile a
Vacation in someone else’s reality and you
Can tell that story for years to come
Years that you can keep track of on a
String of knots an
Invented anthropology while you whisper a
Word that you think means something about ‘mystery’ or ‘sacred’
But really means
‘Keepsake
Previously printed in Civil Liberties United: Diverse Voices from the San Francisco Bay Area, Pease Press, 2019.
Reflection Questions:
How can art be playful, and how can it connect people with different interests?
What ideas and feelings do the opening words in "The End of the Drought," "Panic is a luxury," evoke for you?
What does the chameleon represent in the "Boundaries" poem?
What might be included in "invented anthropology," as mentioned in the poem "Bilingual"?