Cleo Qian: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________

Animal, Look

 

The miracle is not that this
is a lover’s poem, but that I
am the one writing it.

In the bathroom, I perch
at the edge of the tub
while she brushes her teeth
under the light.

Firm line of muscle behind the round shoulder,
stencil sketch of the sharp backbone.

It isn’t that I believed I would never love again,

only,

sometimes, these several years,
I believed I would never love again.

I wrote about deserts, copper,
shorelines and springs.
How the hourglass of life never
is turned.

Now, this woman’s back against my blue
brushed-cotton sheets.

The miracle was not her:
tender, vain, playful,
certain to leave.

Cold edge of the bathtub.
Harsh light of midnight.

It was my own heart I marveled at,
its skip and unease,

How it shifted, a small animal in its nest
raising its head, finally, to look.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Cleo Qian (she/her) is a queer fiction writer and poet born in California. She is the author of the short story collection Let's Go Let's Go Let's Go (Tin House, 2023) which was one of Time’s 100 Best Books of the Year as well as being longlisted for the Andrew Carnegie Medal for Excellence in Fiction, among other accolades. Her writing has been published in outlets including ZYZZYVA, Pleiades, The Sun, The Massachusetts Review, and others.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

French, School of Fontainebleau (last quarter of 16th century), Portrait présumé de Gabrielle d'Estrées et de sa sur la duchesse de Villars (Gabrielle d'Estrées and One of Her Sisters).

Comments

[Cindy Hochman]

Heartfelt and beautifully written. I love the line "I wrote about deserts, copper,
shorelines and springs" (yes, I have a thing about lists, and I love the imagery in this one). Such a lovely, brave, poetic, tender, and well-crafted poem. Congrats, Cleo, and thanks, as always, Terence, for sharing these.

[Bill Nevins]

"It was my own heart I marveled at,
its skip and unease"

And it is this poem at which I marvel!
Stunning.

[Denise Duhamel]

Lovely poem of necessary protection of the heart and then a heart "a small animal in its nest" ready to emerge and engage.

Gorgeous writing!

[Terence Winch]

Thanks for the comment, Cindy.

[Grace Cavalieri]

Once again Terence matches the visual with unspeakably beautiful speech.

[Terence Winch]

Grace: thanks for that comment.

[Sr. Leslie]

Yes and yes and yes again….Lovely poem and great way to begin Pride Month! Thanks Terence and Cleo!

[Don Berger]

You got it right Terence--this one's a stunner, a marvel the ground she covers internally, launched by those wonderful opening lines and closed so beautifully with that metaphor that takes us back to the title. Beautiful poem.

[clarinda harriss]

What Grace said!
How necessary that part about the cold bathtub edge. Another proof of achieving the universal through the particular.

[Terence Winch]

Leslie: thanks for your comment.

[Terence Winch]

Prof. Berger: thank you for the comment.

[Eileen Reich]

Such a lovely poem and artwork. Love it.

[Phyllis Rosenzweig]

Nice

[lally]

damn i love this poem and all it achieves so economically, thank you thank you thank you

[Geoffrey Himes]

It's not easy to capture that bewilderment, that optimism in the face of an almost certain expiration date, when one falls in love after a long dry spell, but she has done it as good as it can be done.

[Judy Ireland]

Perfectly titled — an excellent poem!