3.5 stars.

I didn't like the simplicity of the first poems in this collection and I was pondering skimming my way through the end, but halfway through, I changed my mind. While there are highs and lows in here, there is per se a very strong voice, one that isn't afraid but used to, which dominates the discourse and almost aggressively shows you what it is to write your own body: to write as a trans woman and a person of colour.

My favourites: Diaspora babies, Downtown beastside, The river, Dear white gay men, Interracial psychology, Growing pangs, When is a woman, The funny thing about violence, Hunger p(h)antom, Stealing fire, Doctor's daughter.

from When is a woman?
dear mama,

you said you wanted to know

what it is i am learning in this university

upon which you have spent so much blood, sweat,

and money (we must not forget money, never

forget money, of course, mama)

so i could get a good job

and earn a respectable living

and find a decent wife

and raise two or three healthyhappychildren

and take care of you in your old age

you said you wanted to know, ah-ma,

well:

today, in my fem-in-izz-em class,

a white lady asked

what is a woman

and another white lady

said does the transsexual

threaten the woman

to which the first replied

but what is the woman

and the second said

not a man

and she looked at me

mama, when is a woman?


and doctor’s daughter

swallowing elixirs

beneath the moon/i am

a slow-burning alchemy

in midnight’s tube/shape-shifter/

skin-changer/doctor’s daughter/i

am demon mother

with barren womb. sweet nectar

puddling in my pores. sometimes/to survive,

we must become more than alive

the other night i dreamed

that there were two flowers

budding inside my chest.

like cereus, my body blossoms/

swells/

beneath cool

blue

fingers