Here is the poem that made me laugh out loud in the bookstore and decide I had to buy this book:
I Dreamt the KKK Were in My Living Room
and I had made everyone lemonade
they sipped, offered pleasantries
my house, the antiques
how could they see I asked
with only those tiny slits
for eyes, and we all laughed
after a bit, it got quiet
so I broke the silence with
what I thought my mom
and my grandma and hers
would've wanted me to say–
I poisoned y’all lemonade
***
This book felt different than what I normally read. The style was more spare, less focused on imagery. Sometimes I wasn’t sure what I felt about these as poems.
But the impact is undeniable and together they paint a fascinating picture of the poet’s viewpoint, character, family, position in the world. There are sequences that build in interesting ways - poems for milestone birthdays, a recurring theme of the menstrual cycle, of domestic violence, of interracial relationships, of elegies, of the power of women.
I liked this set of two: “Me, Receiving My First Period,” followed by, “My Mother, Receiving Her Last Period.”
The collection is extremely readable. I enjoyed spending time with the author, being challenged by her, mourning with her. There is a fairly extended set of poems about relationship struggles and divorce - I relate to all of that from an interesting angle. I don’t share the poet’s exact experience but I have my own versions of these stories and my own challenging racial and familial background. There is a sharp edge to a lot of the poems that feels necessary:
To White Folk
“If I had a son, he would look like Trayvon.”
- President Barack Obama
if we can be sisters
you pressin
hot comb to my hair
while Al Green whispers
in Memphis heat
me fussin
tellin you ain’t no boy
gonna last as long
as a degree
get yo shit together girl…
if we can be that close
so when my children
are being killed
in the streets
you rise up too
you cry into my hair
screaming those were our sons
The author closes the book with an essay on Black poetry and literature, starting out with a focus on Phillis Wheatley and interrogating what is taught to whom and why, speaking powerfully about the erasure of Black women in American literature. I loved the essay and it made me very interested to read the author’s prose as well - particularly her novel.