Deluge by Leila Chatti

The poems in Deluge by Leila Chatti are poems of blood, literally. They’re dramatic, but not melodramatic, and they’re very real. The poems are based in experiences Chatti had with excessive bleeding due to tumors in her reproductive organs. Chatti nests her experience in religion, Old-Testament style. She dares to question God in the manner of an ancient prophet, submissive to Him but angry with Him as well. They question what womanhood means, what suffering means, what it is to be a modern Mary with no choice in what happens to the body. These poems are gorgeous and strong and stunning in their gore. Buy here.

From “Confession”

Truth be told, I like Mary a little better / when I imagine her like this, crouched / and cursing, a boy-God pushing on / her cervix (I like remembering / she had a cervix, her body ordinary / and so like mine), girl-sweat lacing / rivulets like veins in the sand, . . .

From “Still Life with Hemorrhage”

. . . At the center // of the scene: a woman on a mattress / on the floor. Her arms cast out // as if preparing to fly / or as if pinned, savior // or specimen. Still asleep. / Day breaking through the window // a warm leak. / The woman in its spotlight / like a halo. As if something holy, / or at least chosen.

From “Waking After the Surgery”

. . . I was somewhere or something // else, not quite dead but nearly, freer, / my self unlatched for a while as if it were // a dog I had simply released from its leash / or a balloon slipped loose from my grip // in a room with a low ceiling, my life / bouncing back within reach, my life // bounding toward me when called.