When I Reach for Your Pulse

by Rushi Vyas

In this electrifying debut, lyric works to untangle slippery personal and political histories in the wake of a parent’s suicide. “When my father finally / died,” Vyas writes, “we [...] burned, / like an effigy, the voiceless body.” Grief returns us to elemental silence, where “the wind is a muted vowel in the brush of pine / branches” across American landscapes. These poems extend formal experimentation, caesurae, and enjambment to reach into the emptiness and fractures that remain. This language listens as much as it sings, can we recover from the muting effects of British colonialism, American imperialism, patriarchy, and caste hierarchies? Which cultural legacies do we release in order to heal? Which do we keep alive, and which keep us alive? A monument to yesterday and a missive to tomorrow, When I Reach for Your Pulse reminds us of both the burden and the promise of inheritance. “[T]he wail outlasts / the dream,” but time falls like water and so “the stream survives its source.”

Genres: Poetry

123 pages, Paperback

First published March 15, 2023

Reviews

[Sam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-written but very difficult. Unfortunately, many of us have dealt with or know of someone close to us who has dealt with mental health difficulties. It explores the intricate dynamics of immigrant parents and their children, the complexities of abusive relationships, and the unbearably challenging consequences of suicide, with eclectic references and a unique style. I definitely didn't understand every reference, especially those to Hinduism, but found what I did poignant.

[Sarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

"In the living room, I learned to discard
a father's mood from flickers:
widened eye, force of a stride,
pursed call of Mom's name
quivering down the hall. I learned
every closed door wields a blade of light below
how to press my cheek still against it, listen."

[Julianne · Rating 4 out of 5]

An absorbing study in the effect of the death by suicide, hanging, of his father. Poignant and accessible if a bit repetitive. Perhaps repetition is important here. I enjoyed this poetry collection, if it is possible to enjoy such tragic poems.