Joanne Poon
01-11 2022 05:47
wrote:
For Constance:
The body remembers
Like starfish stuck onto my shoulders
Grasping and pulling
These memories cling imprint themselves
Shadows cross-crossing on the body
Whispering and giggling and snorting
Remember when?
When you mopped the studio floor, fighting anyone who dared to dethrone you as Best Mopper
When you declared deadpan “is it because I am Chinese/a woman/ human?
When you rattled off all the knowledge of the universe, in a speed that only machines can understand, eager to capture all those thoughts, all the understanding, all the acute observations
Weaving yourself and your soul
Into a litany of a thousand words
The body remembers the pain that shook your shoulders
The muscles that pulled and tugged as you pushed through another smile
And wet the floor with the tears of another character, weeping for her son
Memories drape around shoulders
Like a quilt of a thousand stars
Each star another brief moment
of a twinkle in the eye
Of another chortle
Another bad joke told just for effect
Because bad jokes told seriously earnestly
Become good jokes
Even with irony
My bones remember
As I sat on the floor and you mopped a circle around me
And gifted me with Mama Lemon
Because it cleans well and you clean well and you are Mama. You said.
For a fleeting moment, we forgot about it all
And laughed till we wet the floor again
And you mopped up the forgotten dreams
Remembering you and the joy you brought to the lit perf class,
Joanne Poon
Joanne Poon
01-11 2022 05:47
wrote:
For Constance:
The body remembers
Like starfish stuck onto my shoulders
Grasping and pulling
These memories cling imprint themselves
Shadows cross-crossing on the body
Whispering and giggling and snorting
Remember when?
When you mopped the studio floor, fighting anyone who dared to dethrone you as Best Mopper
When you declared deadpan “is it because I am Chinese/a woman/ human?
When you rattled off all the knowledge of the universe, in a speed that only machines can understand, eager to capture all those thoughts, all the understanding, all the acute observations
Weaving yourself and your soul
Into a litany of a thousand words
The body remembers the pain that shook your shoulders
The muscles that pulled and tugged as you pushed through another smile
And wet the floor with the tears of another character, weeping for her son
Memories drape around shoulders
Like a quilt of a thousand stars
Each star another brief moment
of a twinkle in the eye
Of another chortle
Another bad joke told just for effect
Because bad jokes told seriously earnestly
Become good jokes
Even with irony
My bones remember
As I sat on the floor and you mopped a circle around me
And gifted me with Mama Lemon
Because it cleans well and you clean well and you are Mama. You said.
For a fleeting moment, we forgot about it all
And laughed till we wet the floor again
And you mopped up the forgotten dreams
Remembering you and the joy you brought to the lit perf class,
Joanne Poon
