Arid Delta
Khải Đơn
A rice plant feeds me young
grains. My feet take
root on the barren dirt. Cracked
heel. Bleed. Seedlings suck
my liquid — but a water
buffalo strikes. The field
falls by its hooves. The Earth opens
its chest. My half body
sinks. The buffalo whistles a song — Pull
me — Her song molds my parents
in silt and straw. Parents soak
me in the flood. I squeeze
the buffalo's horn. She gores
parents. They disperse into
herons. Orphan. I snug
into the buffalo's arms. Enwind.
My palms hold her hooves. The sky turns
river. Earth vomits. Herons
are drowned. My cracked heels
devour silt. The sun tips the river
over. If I sink into the buffalo's belly,
I grab her umbilical
cord. If I drink her milk, earth
cannot swallow me. I break
the cycle. Dry feet. Dead rice.
from the book DROWNING DRAGON SLIPS BY BURNING PLAINS / Texas Tech University Press
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Cover of Anthony Vahni Capildeo's book, Polkadot Wounds
Best Recent Poetry Roundup

Oluwaseun Olayiwola reviews new books by Peter Gizzi, Gboyega Odubanjo, Jay Gao, Anthony Vahni Capildeo, Ella Frears and Deborah Landau. Of Capildeo's collection, Polkadot Wounds, he writes, "Many of these poems are dedicated to others, dead and living, revealing a metapoetics of entanglement and community, those whom the poet wishes they could 'walk to the lighthouse with.' Thematically, formally and linguistically, this is a dizzyingly restless collection."

via THE GUARDIAN
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Cover of Mal Journal, issue 3, PlantSex
What Sparks Poetry:
Hua Xi on Language as Form


"Each stanza introduces a new scene and in doing so, a new plane of thought. Sipping tea, the necessity of money. caves, arteries….appear in turn. Each of these subjects raise new questions, but in continuation with each other, like the formation of some secret pattern. There is something in the poem which 'touches itself everywhere at once,' as Kapil writes, a preponderance of edges but not jagged or sharp ones."
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