five poems

by jms xuange



Water Girl

It’s freshwater, not brack. The girl pulls

her finger from her mouth, searches

for cottonmouths. The surface is black,

 

gelatinous, and she uses a heavy stick

to clear a hole wide enough to dunk her head.

It’s like a TV show her mom won’t let her watch

 

or something adults talk over to keep

her from understanding. She knows

she can have as much as she wants

 

as long as she makes her approach like one

maintaining an altar. The water shines.

She fills two Mason jars and carries them home

 

in the basket of her bicycle. Her mom lets her use

the refrigerator but the girl sleeps

on the porch for the rest of the summer.




The Thing You Shelter

a gift

at one time passed

from the realm of the physical

 

to that of an elemental

command or

instinct

 

between a girl

and the hidden thing she shelters

with rocks, sticks,

 

strands of twine

tends

at the base of a

 

scraggly pine

in the far corner of the yard or

what she’s marked

 

for burial

and returns to in the morning

X

I’m being followed. A man in a black bowler,

a woman pushing a pram. A cloud or a force that

with time has become my driver. The absence of rain

is ominous. The streets are well lit. I thought

 

I was going where I usually ended up or where I

imagined in the morning or yesterday I wanted to be.

A desk. A bench in the park. I mean, there was a part of me

that always believed I had agency. This itself

 

was its own kind of direction. I arrive to a spot marked

with an X in black tape to a place I never expected to go.

A bulb in my head about to explode.

I’m told I’ve always been there.

Yourself in Exchange

It should retain enough of its authority

that whatever it propels you to

 

put your finger on  

you identify as your own

 

and leave a part of yourself in exchange

for walking away empty handed.

The Memory Under

The dock that’s twisted like a piece

of old-fashioned candy

curling over

& into the canal

swamped

in reflection and weeds

where I’d like to walk with my valuables

packed in a box

balanced on my head 

into the memory under the water

of the boat I saw tying off.


BIO: jms xuange is a poet whose work explores identity, transformation, and the quiet violence within personal and societal structures. Through fragmented language and abstract imagery, they examine the fluidity of self and the struggle for transcendence. They do not claim a nation or fixed identity. They live and write off the map.

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two poems