primer
by Michael Waters
is that my name聽 聽 聽 mom asks聽 聽 聽 slug scrawl
vaseline cursive聽 聽 聽 across garden paths
is that my name聽 聽 聽 she questions聽 聽 聽 squinting into sky
vapor trails聽 聽 聽 scored by jets聽 聽 聽 unbraiding
is that my name聽 聽 聽 Arabic script聽 聽 聽 storefront window
no聽 聽 聽 mom聽 聽 聽 that鈥檚 not your name
taps my wrist聽 聽 聽 psss聽 聽 聽 someone鈥檚 looking for me
searching America聽 聽 聽 my name聽 聽 聽 everywhere
and you聽 聽 聽 poet聽 聽 聽 didn鈥檛 you ever learn聽 聽 聽 to read
鈥減rimer鈥� is part of a sequence of twenty-five poems titled 鈥渕other of flames鈥� in Caw (BOA Editions, 2020). The sequence concerns my mother, born in 1927, and her downward spiral into Alzheimer鈥檚. It touches on aspects of race, religion, dementia, and caregiving. I鈥檇 written two poems on the subject, then found myself unable to write more until I was able to approach the line from a different perspective. I鈥檝e always insisted that the line is the integral unit of the poem, but for this sequence the phrase became the integral unit of the line. By fragmenting the line, I was able to intimate not only the hesitation on my part of deepening into this topic and presuming familiarity with her condition, but also to suggest, through each line鈥檚 negative spaces, the gaps in my mother鈥檚 thought processes and speech. Still, the poems are written mostly in couplets toward cohesion and emotional restraint. 鈥減rimer鈥� reminds me that no matter how carefully I pay attention, there鈥檚 always a meaningful detail that I鈥檓 missing.
has published thirteen books of poetry, most recently Caw (BOA Editions, 2020), The Dean of Discipline, and Celestial Joyride. He has co-edited several anthologies, including Border Lines: Poems of Migration (Knopf, 2020), Reel Verse: Poems 缅北强奸 the Movies, Contemporary American Poetry, and Perfect in Their Art: Poems on Boxing from Homer to Ali. His poems have appeared in POETRY, American Poetry Review, Paris Review, Yale Review, Kenyon Review, and Rolling Stone. Waters lives without a cell phone in Ocean, New Jersey.