Featured Poem: Programmed by Carlina Duan
PROGRAMMED
Carlina Duan
it’s in the way the light moves, the doctor explains, as wài pó’s
eyes follow ours in the summer room, as her legs droop
over a wooden chair, dressed in the cotton pants we
placed her in, her chin going soft against our touch, her
mouth puffy with quiet, the times my mother took
wài pó’s hands and folded them within hers,
whispered, ma? ma? wǒ huí lái le, and wài pó let out
an unmistakable groan: a soft horse, trembling. we
all shouted, then— she understands! thinking about onions
and the way she would eat them raw, bucking into each
spicy globe with her teeth, she understands, we pleaded
with the doctor, seeing her again, in that chair, her soft
whinnying, her ankles round from years of sitting in front
of the television with its boxed blue noise of kissing
and whales. but the doctor brings us back to her hair: silver.
to her hands: still. we are thinking about our lucy doll,
her hair braided into fine brown knots, plush body caged
in a calico dress of heather and flowers. summers ago,
wài pó took a black brow liner and made two thick, dark lines
above the eyes. women need eyebrows, she’d said, returning
lucy to us, the doll’s face caught in a perpetual state
of surprise, wài pó migrating to the kitchen away from our
slack girlish jaws to slice a thick head of cabbage, leaves
wedged beneath her bossy palms to a fine pulp…
now, in the musty hospital room, wài pó sits strapped
to a chair. the doctor tells us it is the light
she is following with her eyes—not our voices, not
our bodies, we’re programmed like that, he says, to follow
where the light goes, and my mother, now, faces her own
mother, sobbing. wrenches wài pó’s hands and presses
them to her face, her nose against her mother’s nose,
shouting, ma? ma? don’t you see me? don’t you see?
Carlina Duan is a writer-educator from Michigan. The author of the poetry collection I Wore My Blackest Hair, she currently teaches at the University of Michigan, where she is also a PhD student in the Joint Program of English and Education. Carlina directs a short-story workshop for young writers at Neutral Zone, a youth center for creative arts in Ann Arbor. She believes in gardens. Find her online at carlinaduan.com.
FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/cduan
INSTAGRAM: @earthtocarlina
TWITTER: @ccduan