Joanne PoonSend a message to

Joanne Poon

Joanne Poon

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

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