top of page


CAS for Database

Kate Choi

Seoul, South Korea

Seoul Foreign School



after Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth

When I was seven I split

my lip, having tripped running

after my brothers, stained

the brittle straw ground straw-

berry pink. When I was eight,

a stroll became a spill, gravity stealing

my bones from my skeleton. I remember

the silt in my teeth: sticky,

strange, salt—a sting

on my tongue.

The day came when the stairs grew

too steep for me to stall.

At sixteen, I went to the dance,

but left when I could

not stand any longer. Twisted,

my knees shook

into each other like blind

deer. Steer me

from stillness, I begged

the doctors, & my mother stood shaking

her head. They declared my strength


left to stitch together.

She cannot stand

or step or stretch, they said:

our recommendation is

she stop trying. Still I strapped

in, strapped on those stiff

scuffed shoes. Even stick-

thin I strung the belt around my waist

over the dress soft

as sunset. I am not yet

a statistic. Still

I crawl strong, strut

across fields wistful

but steeled, like a

spine, stare at the static

hanging heavy

above me. Lightning

will strike.

Sitting in the window, Alvaro calls

safety first. But part of me

would like to stay:

I am no statue. I am still

strong enough to watch

the starving

          storms stun life

into wasted trees.

This piece was previously published in The Metaphysical Review, Issue I.


Don’t be fooled by the title; this poem is anything but static. The narrative advances with unshakeable resolve, driven forward by the author’s use of active verbs and through the breathless recounting of irreversible turning points from the speaker’s childhood. Even as the speaker descends into a nosedive of powerlessness, she presses onward, hellbent, and the ending is, for lack of a better word, electric.


Kate K. Choi graduated from Seoul Foreign School in 2023 and currently attends Yale University. After writing, her passions include dark chocolate, neuroscience, and music in all shapes and forms.

bottom of page