Mary Jean Chan’s ‘The Window’ Featured as The Guardian’s Poem of the Month

 

 

Once in a lifetime, you will gesture
at an open window, tell the one who
detests the queerness in you that dead
daughters do not disappoint, free your 
sore knees from inching towards a kind
of reprieve, declare yourself genderless as
hawk or sparrow: an encumbered body
let loose from its cage. You will refuse
your mother’s rage, her spit, her tongue
heavy like the heaviest of stones. Her
anger is like the sun, which is like love,
which is the easiest thing, even on the
hardest of days. You will linger, knowing
that this standing before an open window
is what the living do: that they sometimes 
reconsider at the slightest touch of grace.

 

 

Shortlisted for the Forward prize for best single poem. From Flèche by Mary Jean Chan published by Faber (£10.99)

 

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