Mother Event
— for YuRan

Mother now
dizzying sensation of sitting on high—
so small, so soft
flesh
a bite in the mouth
a belly ofwater

~

to begin
they peel out the sterile plastic pipette
from its paper wrapper
in a single motion—
(like stripping chicken from its skin)
no wasted movement
float
roof, pillar, sheep and cows
sink from the waterbed
natural
not yet flooded with
spirit or mood
they repeatedly change the paper pads
rewrite the sky-blue
the language of perfection:
separate out this distinct contour you
slippery in a sheet of cream
freshly minted nailtips:
one, two, three, four, five

lightpanorama
all blue:
sofa, gowns, gloves, mattress pad, blankets, tiny terry-cloth hat
sets off
a bit of flesh
(blue)
eyes (blue)

~

who let them
take you away—
Draw blood
Tap spine
Stick electrodes to chest
Seal into the glass incubator
Bloody stains on tiny feet!

Hold it up
against the skin
(a clutter of tubes, wires, monitors)
suckeyes of the breaststhrobbing tight
refuse the fake
loud cry
violent shake
(it can cough, too!)—
return me my flesh!

~

he says—
“I saw the hair first, blackhair”
“blood”
blood?
“screams” and “cries”
Cries? Screams?

~

let’s go home
OK
leave this place full of hands
too bright too noisy
whether rain or heat
we have a window, with shades
bassinetteblanketsturn off the light

~

it can cry	without tears
(like a bomb already set, but with an erratic timer)
hungry wet tired sleepy delighted	cry cry cry cry
(when lacking means of expressionit doesn’t smile)
dressing		cry
full diaper	cry	cry	cry
belly down	cry
held up against the chest
up and down	cry

~

when not crying
it (can) look at me
those eyelids
Open the door
let “me” in
eye of eyes
clarity of no distance hide me
is me! (is this mine!)

put this mirror down—can’t
little handslittle feeta little bonnie
tight fists
stinky
won’t open up

it rains
hualahualawater
a little spider
slides down the hill

~

these faces
dark, wrinkled, fat and thick, powder soiled
once held to breasts, kissed and kissed again?
This perfection of mother’s bosom
would stand in lines
to join these faces
on the bus?

don’t let them watch
watch youbreaths shallow, light pink, eternal
cheeks of water
wild lilies spread from chest to
chubby legs’
little
fork.

Because you are not the same.

Not the same clean
not the same perception.

~

these you
these I
one, two, three, four, five
six, seven
all pretty orchids
go to heaven

~

The expression of no “I”
how can that be called an expression
is the loveliest expression
is the only possible expression

~

in the past did I, too, enjoy
this endless
hold, pat, embrace, carry, rock, hug, piggyback
clean, wash, rub, brush, comb, stroke, kiss, smooch
smile, breastfeed, sing—
always a good mood no temper
always keep up even when tired, sleepy, exhausted, bored and can’t stand one second more?

Don’t recall drinking your milk
“‘till you’re a year and a half”
don’t remember eating my doody
“all over your face”
remember the accidents at night
“don’t remember your teething history”
fat belly, small eyes, thick voice, big girl
(do you remember now?)
so later on it grew into beauty itself—
oval face, willowy waist, long legs, delicate ankles

these victories forgotten
allow us
to grow up without turning back
temperamental and with no patience?

Achievements left you
are not you
only suspicions—
you did hold me tight
(even if I don’t remember and cried my best)
you held me in good spirits
didn’t toss me into the river
mom

~

these crystallized
tears
and
all
that love!

Has nothing to do with your personal story
the manifestation of life reduces to purity—
all there is worth measuring is
body weight
why you only like blue
how many oz. of mashed fruit you ate today?

~

one two three four five
climb the slope where the tigers live (of course not to hunt, PC)
don’t see tiger slinking around
so plant this watermelon(Hey, Hey)
melon grows no melon seeds
becomes a turtle in the reeds (Hey, Hey)!

Hmmmm, BaoBao
sleep
sleep
BaoBao

~

lack of any rhythm
is itthe rhythm?

Salty sweet bitter spice
become superfluous:
double-fold eyelids sticky with
rice flakes and mashed peas
draw mom’s tongue:
squeaksHey, Hey
don’t scratch your eyes

~

this love
tears
and
a bundle
that can’t
be
separated!

Hands that hold you tight
throw you down the river
now
or later
you assume
she will recognize you?
on the road?
Girls
born
die
born again…
why not
eternally
the daughter?
You
what right do you have to rob me
one hour
of every three?
Cry
you still cry
why can’t I?

~

(the weight of this curve on my shoulder
soft)
your forehead
shines
compare it towhat?

A leopard cub
prickly claws
two bloody scratches…

~

days not needing sugar
are not bitter
days of milk
white and pink
a chin dripping drool
no one can compare to you
embrace youembrace self
newborn: pooched belly, crossed legs, tender thoughts, impossible feeling

Dig a big hole
bury youmy body
and
this memory:the story of mother and child
flesh-and-bloodtheir positions and personal pronouns

surprising water rises
all drown
drown

because it is not possible