Franny Choi


Franny Choi is the author of several books, including, Soft Science (Alice James Books, 2019), Floating, Brilliant, Gone (Write Bloody Publishing, 2014), and a chapbook, Death by Sex Machine (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2017). She was a 2019 Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Fellow and has also received awards from the Rhode Island State Council on the Arts and Princeton University’s Lewis Center. Her poems have appeared in the New York Times, the Nation, the Atlantic, Paris Review, and elsewhere. She co-hosts the Poetry Foundation’s podcast VS (it’s pronounced “verses”—get it?) alongside Danez Smith and is currently an Arthur Levitt, Jr. Artist-in-Residence at Williams College. Source

Hangul Abecedarian

Genghis Khan, my father says, using a soft G,

Never saw our peninsula with his own eyes.

Don’t quote me on that—

Recall isn’t my strong suit. I’ve convinced myself

Memorizing dates, for example, is outmoded.

Better to learn the overall movements,

Social conventions rising and falling,

Empires and their changing mascots.

Genghis sired so many, they say, his children’s

Children’s children’s genes sowed an entire

Continent of grasslands. If  you press your ear

To my blood’s topography, you’ll hear hooves

Pounding, though I can’t remember when it started, or

Whose king it is coming in the distance.





Literary Movements:


Anthology Years:



Intersectionality & Culture

Memory & The Past

Poetic Form

Literary Devices:


an ancient form that is guided by alphabetical order. When written in English, each line or stanza generally begins with the letters of the alphabet in order. The form was traditionally used in ancient cultures for sacred writings such as prayers, hymns, and psalms.


an expression designed to call something to mind without mentioning it explicitly; an indirect or passing reference


a line break interrupting the middle of a phrase which continues on to the next line