I have my heart on my fist
Like a blind falcon.

- Anne Hébert

And the mirages, the

            mirages—

            I knew what they were

yet often

changed my course 

            and followed them.

- Robert Hayden

On some days, my depression is over there in a picnic basket while I am

over here looking at art.

- Victoria Chang

Now the name I was given is no longer fitting

We don’t remember our birth.

When a mother dies, it’s gone.

- Victoria Chang

The ocean is a

bully, always insisting

it understands hope the best.

- Victoria Chang

One by one, days died,

even they weren’t protected.

They have no symptoms

but keep dying. They want to

fix melancholy,

to keep coming back to no

answers, to take the

depositions of orchards.

- Victoria Chang

Waves in August

Victoria Chang

The waves never die.

In May, they look like reason.

They are not violent.

By August, all hope is gone,

even stars are arrested.

I will never love

anyone the way I love

my memories and their cliffs.

- Victoria Chang

The heart

Victoria Chang

Someone trimmed the tree.

Maybe there are no answers.

Small bits of blue sky through it.

Garden

Victoria Chang

Something is growing.

Plath said growing hurts at first,

but when does the hurting stop?

My fingerprints are

all rubbed down from touching time.

- Victoria Chang

The shipwreck

Victoria Chang

I sit at my desk.

Desire is an anchor—

I lift it and words come up.

There are no words here, just rain

on the nape of everything.

- Victoria Chang