Since I released The Sun On My Palm, I have had several people ask me the story behind the poem, … Continue Reading The Story Behind Kaintophobia Amongst the Arachnids
The Sun On My Palm is a collection of poetry (and one flash fiction piece for fun), representing Kyle Richtig’s continued mission to describe the world around him.
Never become a household name
for if you do
you will lose yourself
A new poem by Kyle Richtig.
A poem about the origins of modern chocolate.
I’m balancing on a wire suspended between two bridges. Far below, the canopy of ocean with its welcoming embrace waits, … Continue Reading Balance Act
Empathetic Viscera is a snapshot of the modern Canadian experience. Richtig sees this period of Canadian history as the search for ourselves. The modern Canada is in the process of incorporating traditions and peoples from around the world (DNA Speaks, Sameness Is A Myth), understanding and appreciating our environment (Boreal Forest, The St. Mary’s), and the disconnection from colonial Eurocentric ideology (The Search For God, The Chordates, Chemical Taste).
It’s true the steady rhythm of the beating drum counting heartbeats and voices in the night. That song of Utopia … Continue Reading Drum
New year spins again. Forgotten webs of promises dust the corners and the high places making old a vision of … Continue Reading Long Buried
Hear ye, hear ye! All who live in blindness In blissful canoes that float On surfaces of suffering Listen and … Continue Reading Invitation
He The distant spring And I The thirsty traveller Lips dried From too much talking A mirage?
Pacified with a bit of honey The eminent compatability of youth Invisible advantages bestowed In swarms of privilege like bees … Continue Reading Pacified
I’m taken to the absense of honour Taking with me the shrouded truth The sweltering of tongues spoken In forums … Continue Reading Devils and Angels
I think I’d like to sleep with a mathematician He sweaty from hours of hard labour I would not tell … Continue Reading Connor
I’m caressed inside the womb of ignorance. Still-born to the flash of media parades, I sleepwalk through mazes of slightly … Continue Reading Variance
We are making the wampum, my son Like our grandfathers did History woven through connection Of minds and fabrics And … Continue Reading Wampum