Caitlin Scarano's debut poetry collection, Do Not Bring Him Water, begins, 'as a child you don't ask yourself why you're hiding, / you just hide.' These poems bear witness to domestic trauma and the many forms it can take. In this collection, women escape knots of fishing wire, secret rooms behind radiator grates, hammers to the skull, vegetable gardens, howling houses, chains and chairs. Scarano orchestrates a strange, lyrical world where the lines between human/animal, male/female, past/future, guilt/innocence, and waking/dreaming blur with both visceral pleasure and danger. We are led through this world by a speaker who is attempting to both acknowledge and disrupt a history of violence and silence. Yes, perhaps 'no one is made / for anyone, ' but love can still engender from loss
Originally from Southside Virginia, Caitlin Scarano is a writer based in Bellingham, Washington. She holds a PhD from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, an MFA from the University of Alaska Fairbanks, and an MA from Bowling Green State University.
Her second full length collection of poems, THE NECESSITY OF WILDFIRE, was selected by Ada Limón as the winner of the Wren Poetry Prize and will be released on April 5th 2022 by Blair.
In May 2021, Bear Gallery (Fairbanks, Alaska) exhibited Caitlin and Megan Perra's collaborative project “The Ten-Oh-Two”—poems and visual art on the Porcupine Caribou Herd. Learn more about this project here.
Caitlin is a member of the Washington Wolf Advisory Group and a current participant in the Bonanza Creek Long-Term Ecological Research (LTER)’s In a Time of Change (ITOC) program. She was selected as a participant in the NSF’s Antarctic Artists & Writers Program and spent November 2018 in McMurdo Station in Antarctica.
Caitlin’s debut collection of poems, DO NOT BRING HIM WATER, was released in Fall 2017.
It was my first time reading a book of poetry while knowing the poet intimately well, and it did change the experience for me. Much of the imagery had tangible reference and I loved that. I felt grounded when mostly poetry makes me feel like I'm floating upside down. I want to feel that way sometimes too. This, however, had much more meaning to me. My advice, get to know the poets you love.
Caitlin Scarano’s debut poetry collection Do Not Bring Him Water is a master class in exploring the rot of trauma and the dissonance of need. Each poem shows us a speaker who will not be held down, clawing her way to the surface to breathe, scratching everything that gets close along the way. At turns hollow, luminescent, bloody, and frozen, the collection’s fragmented voice is wrought together with indelible image threads—the white dog, spoiled milk, bowl and spoon, the ghost of a son. These graceful, violent poems are not written for the faint of heart, and you might end up crying hot tears in a coffee shop if you read them all in a row like I did. But most of all, this book shows us how to write without flinching--to tell the truth. I’m convinced that this poet’s real name is She Is Not Afraid. Caitlin Scarano is one to watch.
My favorite poetry book I’ve found this year - Scarano is a rare talent, and I’m very happy to find out that she has since released more collections. This is how poetry is supposed to be; emotional, raw, intimate, unsettling, a little scary.
Barn fires. Blue owls. Bones. Fathers. Hammers. Tobacco pipes. Wolves.
Powerful and evocative poems that explores the intricacies of human relationships and the emotional landscapes that define them. Scarano's use of vivid imagery and repetition creates a haunting and unforgettable reading experience
"Do Not Bring Him Water" by Caitlin Scarano is a hauntingly beautiful poem that explores the complexity of human emotions and relationships. The poem's title serves as a warning to the speaker's sister, who is instructed not to bring water to a man who is dying of thirst in the desert. However, the poem delves deeper into the relationship between the speaker and her sister, revealing a web of guilt, betrayal, and resentment. One of the most striking aspects of the poem is the way in which Scarano weaves together imagery of the desert landscape with the emotional turmoil of the characters. The imagery of the "burnt sienna of the sand" and the "dry wind" effectively conveys the harsh and unforgiving environment in which the characters find themselves. The man's thirst becomes a metaphor for the emotional thirst of the speaker and her sister, who are unable to find satisfaction or comfort in their relationship. The poem's use of repetition, particularly the line "My sister and I," emphasizes the speaker's connection to her sister and the shared experiences that have brought them to this moment. The repetition also underscores the sense of guilt and responsibility the speaker feels towards her sister, as she instructs her not to provide aid to the dying man.
This is literally the best book of poetry I've ever read. Every poem has a line that will sink you. Scarano describes in hook-filled stanzas the ways that abuse lives on in family lines, stories that we live out again and again. She describes the wilderness of trauma that exists both outside and inside of us, and how in abuse the survivor is left to see beasts everywhere, including in themselves. I literally read this as slowly as possible, trying to go over every line.
At first, I wasn't too crazy about the poems. But I think you need to be in the right headspace to read poetry or the beauty/effect will be lost on you. It was half-way where I started to get into it. The poem that the collection is named after is my favorite. The speaker is a sorrowful one especially when it comes to men. I'm going to have a lot of cool weird imagery from here in my head for a while.
Caitlin guess-taught for a single class for one of my undergraduate creative writing classes at UW-Milwaukee. Her writing style is visually stunning and overall brilliant.
Some of the poems in this collection were hard to stomach, most notably 'Pool' for making me tear up and have to set the book down.
Her writing near perfectly reflects the messages behind her words.
“I drained the gentleness from myself as if bleeding a boar.”
Wow. Trauma, grief, despair, and reincarnation all told via haunting metaphors of nature, animals, and gender. I found this collection deeply raw. This is a series I will certainly need to revisit again and again to fully appreciate the language Scarano uses.
i bought this in city lights bookstore in san francisco in 2018. i’m pretty sure i read it that year, and i remember not liking it much. reading it now, at 20 instead of 17, with a love behind me, i think i finally understand.
"would you rather create a thing that will dominate or one that will be dominated?"
wow. every poem in this collection is highly intentional and viscerally written. Scarano paints an image of trauma with her writing that I have never read before.
Although I basically devoured this book in one sitting, the visceral, terrible beauty of the language in each poem begs for a return in order to savor the iron tang, the bloody marrow of such rich words.
In this collection, “a girl body” is “always on edge” and for good reason. Scarano explores the violence inflicted on girl bodies and its inevitable legacy of secrets with passion and a singular, angry yearning. The juxtaposition of the natural world – screech owls, snakes, dogs and hens – with the unnatural world of a man’s boot, a knife, a radiator grate underscores the unnatural horror of violence born out of deeply ingrained misogyny at the very level of our blood and family.
The speakers in Scarano’s poems know the pain of “Unsealing a horror.” They also know that their survival lies in “tugging at the zipper of his mouth.” In “Between the Bloodhounds and My Shrinking mouth,” Scarano writes “I would swallow when I figured out how/ to uncoil myself and live the length/ of my body.” And, indeed, the women inhabiting her poems have developed antlers and teeth and exoskeletons, scabs and hunger. They must wield icepicks, fire, and their own sexuality. They smell of woodsmoke and lye. And, as they raise daughters of their own, they acknowledge that sometimes “the harder surfaces are where/ we need to nest.”
All hail “self-indulgent girls—/ who eat their scabs” and the women who write of their beauty and survival.
(#15 of Book Riot Read Harder Challenge: A one sitting book)