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By Gail Mazur

During this sequence of latest poems Gail Mazur takes stock-of the complexity of relationships among mom and dad and kids, the needs of the physique in addition to its frailties, the differences among reminiscence and historical past, and the desire of paintings to catch those probably inscrutable realities. by way of turns mordant and passionate, narrative and meditative, Mazur's poems suggest that lifestyles, with all of its losses, triumphs, and abrasive intimacies, is much richer and extra elaborately metaphorical than poetry can aspire to be-and but her poems do affectingly recreate this truth. those illuminating poems are the paintings of an acclaimed poet on the best of her shape.

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Dry-eyed mom, one second irreverent and the subsequent, sentimentalizing father’s perfections—a some distance cry from the litany of criticism nonetheless lingering in my phone’s limbic); or if I may still describe my tears as I stood there with Kathe, 9 years after his unveiling, that will be description—not crying. My younger cousin ailing at our aunt’s open grave the subsequent row of stones over, a chiselled row of names from my youth my youngsters won't ever recognize. this is often paper, ink, now not a middle breaking —nor a therapeutic, both. anything I make, so while the day is over there’s anything the following. night occasionally she’s Confucian— resolute in privation. . . . every day, extra motionless, hip no longer mending, legs swollen; nonetheless she includes her grief with a difficult balance. Twelve years uncompanioned, there’s no element eager for what can’t go back. This morning, she tells me, she stumbled on a robin hunched within the damp airborne dirt and dust via the blossoming white azalea. nonetheless there at midday— she went out within the backyard together with her 4-pronged steel cane— it looked to be death. this night, whilst she regarded back, the chook had disappeared and as an alternative, below the bush, used to be a tiny egg— “Beautiful robin’s-egg blue”— she carried rigorously interior. “Are you protecting it hot? ” I ask—what am I considering? — and she or he: “Gail, I don’t wish a bird,I need a blue egg. ” I want i would like i want The black kitten cries at her bowl meek meek and the grey one glowers from the windowsill. My hand at the can to serve them. First day of spring. the day prior to this I drove my little mom for hours via rainy snow. Her 80th birthday. What she sought after used to be that journey with me— procuring, gossiping, mulling previous grievances, 1930, 1958, 1970. How merciless the area has been to her, how uncanny she’s survived it. In her bag, a birthday card from “my Nemesis,” signed truly with love—“Why is she doing this to me? ” she calls for, “She hates me. ” “Maybe she loves you” is and isn’t what mom desires to listen, possibly after sixty years the relationship may perhaps to boot be love. may well good be love, I don’t say— I won’t break her birthday, my implacable mom. In Byfield, within the storm from snow, we received issues at an antiques mall, she a miniature Sunbonnet child creamer and saucer— a discount! —I, a chrome ice bucket stamped with penguins, with Bakelite handles. i needed it, I had one similar to it at domestic. occasionally i feel the single factor I’m yes i need is what i've got. “What do you need for? ” I requested a pal, i used to be so curious to understand how he’d formulate a want, to understand if there's a formulation. His checklist was once deliciously basic, my pal the hedonist: a penthouse with a concierge, “wonderful food,” months in Mexico, strong videos. . . . final evening, you and that i watched “The means We have been” and that i cried— I continually do—for the in need of in it, and the wasting. “It’s a very good movie,” I acknowledged, to justify my tears. I want you have been extra like me. Streisand and Redford, so contrary it’s emblematic, nearly a cliché. each one needs or wants the opposite to alter, so the pushy Jewish lefty, Barbara, can be quiet, accommodating, and the accommodating, good-looking, laid-back “nice gentile boy” should still consider her that individuals are their rules.

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