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[tiaochan]

Hello! I’m not sure if you’d know, but I’m looking for a poem.

It was a about a girl who had attempted suicide and afterwards her father had driven very far to get her plums at her request. When she had received them she promised not to hurt herself anymore as the strength from all the people who loved her would keep her going.

It was quite popular but if you don’t remember maybe someone else would? Thank you.

I know the one! It's not a poem but an excerpt from Mary Karr's Cherry 💗

[tiaochan]

diogenes tries to forget by Mary Karr

[tiaochan]

Scabrous streets, dead nerves cushioned deep below.

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

A question perforated, come undone Against which you brush, and brush, and brush again

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

She sews the streets together with hurried steps

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense



[tiaochan]

The lure of foreignness, pressed lushly into cellophane wrappers.

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense



[tiaochan]

Faces warmed by the lanterns of screens An intimacy built on unread gestures So you're the lucky one, she murmurs, before leading the way into sleep

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

The cousin insists on linking arms beneath the scholar trees, their stiff shadows crossing

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense



[tiaochan]

A misfire of allegiances

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

When the morning shivers through the windows,   some damp spots, coins from another life, left on the pillow.

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

Jenny Xie, from “The Rupture Tense”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

Small glances, from afar, that one keeps in the front pockets.

Jenny Xie, from “Meeting Places”, The Rupture Tense

[tiaochan]

Jenny Xie | Solitude Study

[tiaochan]

SELF-PORTRAIT WITH FIRE - Heather Christle

[tiaochan]

Jenny Xie, from “Postmemory”

[tiaochan]

And before I cast my curses on those who persevere in loneliness and hesitate to return my greetings, I remember how often in the chill we leave tender skin bloodied, alien, and dry.

Maya Abu Al-Hayyat, from “Massacres”, You Can Be the Last Leaf: Selected Poems, tr. Fady Joudah  

[tiaochan]

The Essential American Worker

— Saeed Jones, from Alive at the End of the World

[text id:

America kills me, then says “now get back to work.”

[It’s 7 p.m. again; it’s time to clap.]

[It’s 7 p.m. again; it’s time to clap.]

[It’s 7 p.m. again; it’s time to clap.]

I know

a ghost like mine don’t come cheap.]