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What does it mean to love a woman--a mother, an other--and hold her at arm's length? Clara Joseph's third collection of poems, M/OTHER, skillfully navigates the nuances and irony of this daily exercise. With each turn of the page, the narrative gains emotional intensity and takes readers on unexpected journeys, such as this one: "He smiled like the man he was/as he copied wonder into my lap, . . ./And I bent to smell his washed scalp;/the nip was barely visible . . ./And the snake slid away/in the shadows between/our hooves." While the collection playfully experiments with language and form, it never obscures the gravity of its themes, as in the parenthetical query: "(Could I be a Ruth to my Naomi?/Or would I be--simply--ruthless?)" The collection is divided into three parts, each exploring the multifaceted nature of motherhood, uncovering biographical details, certainties, uncertainties, and the intricacies of hidden pasts. It also contemplates unconventional messages, both reverent and irreverent, unveiling their magical essence. In the final section, the book contemplates senility and will, death and miracle, and survival and freedom.
JESUS,
Mother, before they lived together, was the Holy Spirit.
Her hus, being a man,
to divorce her quietly resolved
in a dream, and the child
conceived in her.
She will bear a son, and name him,
his people, and their sins.
All is spoken by the prophet:
the virgin shall give birth
and name him man,
which means, God.
Joseph took her
but had no marital relations until she had given birth to a son.
REALLY RIPE MANGOES
At my mother-in-law’s
The thud
Thud
Thud
Thud thud
Are mangoes
Ripening to the earth
All day
All night
Self-giving
