EILEEN R. TABIOS and SANDY MCINTOSH'S "EILEEN R. TABIOS"

(This feature is part of TRUCK’s Theme Issue on the List or Catalog Poem. You can go HERE for an Index of the Participating Poets.)

from “I FORGOT LIGHT BURNS”

“What is to give light must endure burning.”

—Victor E. Frankl

I forgot I was a connoisseur of alleys—

I forgot the glint from the fang of a wild boar as he lurked behind shadows in a land where it only takes one domino to fall—

I forgot how quickly civilization can disappear, as swiftly as the shoreline from an oil spill birthed from a twist of the wrist by a drunk vomiting over the helm—

I forgot grabbing at my fading dreams only to recall a vision of skyscrapers crumbling from the slaps of iron balls—

*

I forgot mangos, eaten before they ripened—they were savored with much salt and first soaked in vinegar—

*

I forgot a brother—

I forgot the brother who gave me a rainbow trapped within enamel—

*

I forgot the light burned and we never shaded our eyes—

*

I forgot discovering the limited utility of calm seas—

I forgot appreciating a delicadeza moonlight as much as any long-haired maiden—

I forgot the stance of cliffs meeting water—

*

I forgot I was not an immigrant; I was simply myself who lacked control at how the world formed outside the “Other” of me—

I forgot learning to appreciate rust, and how it taught me bats operate through radar—

*****

Eileen R. Tabios
 


By Sandy McIntosh 

"I really think you should title this poem 'Eileen R. Tabios'"

--Eileen R. Tabios



Eileen R. Tabios 


Announced today 


That her next book 


Will be 
5000 pages long. 


In an unrelated development

Eileen R. Tabios 


Announced 


That she has acquired 


A major interest 


In International Harvester, 


The only U.S. manufacturer 


Of oversize-poetry forklifts. 



It was learned 


Early today 


That Eileen R. Tabios' 


Book for the next year 


Will be 


13,000 pages long. 


In an unrelated development 


Eileen R. Tabios 


Announced 


That she has acquired 


San Francisco's famous 


Coit Tower 


Which she will turn 


Into a library 


Housing one large print 


Version of her book. 



It was learned 


Early today 


That Eileen R. Tabios 


Has acquired large tracts 


Of the Pacific Ocean 


For an unknown purpose. 


In an unrelated development 


Eileen R. Tabios 


Announced 


That the number of pages 


Of her future books 


Will be counted 


In leagues and fathoms. 



It was learned 


Early today 


(continued next page)

______

("I FORGOT LIGHT BURNS" is from I FORGOT LIGHT BURNS by Eileen R. Tabios (Moria Books, Chicago, 2015)

"Eileen R. Tabios" was first published in The After-Death History of My Mother by Sandy McIntosh (Marsh Hawk Press, New York, 2005)

INTRODUCTION & INDEX: The Catalog or List Poem

Dear Readers,

Thanks to Halvard Johnson for the opportunity to curate a group of poems concerned with the form of list or catalog poem. This is a form that’s interested me since I began writing poems. In more recent years, the list poem has intrigued because of my other interest in subverting the form of auto/biography; I’ve found that the list not only can be an autobiographical fragment of one’s life (e.g. ye olde shopping list) but also a form that can enhance truth-telling by presenting a scaffolding against the turmoil of emotions that arises when one looks at one’s life.

My interest in this form will manifest itself in my forthcoming book, INVENT(ST)ORY: Selected Catalog Poems &New. I decided to curate a TRUCK issue on the list poem to see how else other poets conceive of the form. As you will see through these varied offerings, there’s more going on in the list poem than just … listing.  My thanks to the poet-participants.

I list below the poet-participants. I plan to post 1-2 poets daily. For convenience, their names below will be linked to their offerings as we proceed through the month.

Enjoy!

EileenTabios

ORDER:

(Nos. are Days of Month):

1 – Introduction & Index

1 – Pamela Hart

2 – Amanda Ngoho Reavey

3 – Barry Schwabsky 

4 – Stephanie Strickland 

5 – Sandy McIntosh

6 – John Bloomberg-Rissman

7 – Anne Gorrick

8 – Sheila Murphy

8 – Rebecca Loudon

9 – Patrick James Dunagan

9 – Jean Vengua

10 – Anny Ballardini

11 – Patti Greenberg

12 – Neil Leadbeater
12 – Lanny Quarles

13 – Laura Roghaar

14 – Donna Fleischer

15 – Marton Koppany

16 – Minal Hajratwala

17 – Michael Sikkema

18 – lars palm

19 – Tom Beckett

20 – Mark Young

21 – Cynthia Schwartzberg Edlow

22 – Alex Gildzen

23 – Melissa Eleftherion

24 – J.G. Dimaranan

25 – G. Mae Aquino
26 – Erin Virgil
27 – J Likha Yatco

28 – Julia Fleeman

29 – Shloka Shankar

29 – Jim McCrary

30 – Halvard Johnson

31 – Eileen Tabios & aDoppelganger (Sandy McIntosh)

(cover to a List Poem chap by TRUCK contributor Alex Gildzen)

Eileen R. Tabios

“I forgot a carapace, then its splitting”

I forgot a coil that previously bowed without purpose—it began to be lubricated for an intent to revise.

I forgot a bolt of cream linen turning crimson along the edges touching the floor.

I forgot a carapace, then its splitting.

I forgot the silvery thrum among treetops during perpetual autumns.

I forgot anthologies of glass.

I forgot the difference between desires for father and fodder.

I forgot questions thickening as the sun moved alongside the moon to preserve the possibility of synchronous precisions against skeptics who surfaced to avoid commitment.

I forgot the seeking that began without knowing whether one was beginning to stink or sing.

I forgot the clutter of broken objects manifesting affordable treasures when one owns nothing, or owns only dilemmas over belonging.

I forgot the aftermaths from dilemmas of belonging.

I forgot algebra failing to succor when relationships were inevitably destabilized by indigenous cell memory.

I forgot broken glass surfacing my first conception of Beauty from the lovely wink of a glass sliver, belying edges and their sharpness.

I forgot a grandmother who threw empty bottles at a toddler’s face.

I forgot staring at a photograph of a baby with belly larger than head and later arguing with my math teacher, “Two negatives do not equal a positive!”

I forgot the white light, white roses, white silk, white lace and white pearls that adorned my wedding—instead I remember this happy day included the whisper, “Mama, glass is easily broken …”

I forgot the original human born only because bamboo was split.

I forgot the lucidity of ancient mountains.

I forgot receiving a scar on my cheek while an emerald mountain wept.

I forgot no one else noticing the diminishing moon’s tiptoe across the night sky.

I forgot pausing to scratch with a missing finger.

I forgot stuffing doves into burlap bags.

I forgot an ascetic’s illusion of ecstasy will always be illusion due to its condition precedent: a suffering so unmitigated it hollowed non-survivors from children to earthworms.

I forgot a “Mom” and “Dad” bringing me to a turquoise house cheered by kittens and where I learned meals will be finished and still there will be food for the next.

I forgot immersing myself in a sea until, chin just topping salty water, my head became attached to the entire planet.

I forgot imagination cannot alchemize air into protein.

I forgot other boys like Samuel and Elwin whose bones became transparent.

© Eileen Tabios

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