Not a Bird or a Flower: A Chapbook by Jenny Yang Cropp
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Maybe I just believe in digging, the process of it, dirt beneath the nails giving me something to wash away at night. Or maybe I like watching my hole become a pit, my pit become a place to hide things. My rag doll’s plucked eye. A list of curse words tucked into a triangle and passed to me. A wire stripped from my bra and used to pick a lock. The night of our attempted suicides. Boys and girls brandishing their weapons. My collection of sharp edges. I can leave them here. Deep beneath the dirt. I can bury them in this red clay. How we thrive in a hostile environment, how we manage to take root.
– from "Usage Error: Deep-seeded"
In this collection of poems, Jenny Yang Cropp reflects on a childhood marked by raw beauty and cruelty. The clarity and honesty of Cropp’s vision orders the world, and makes it luminous even as it measures the weight of trauma with terrible accuracy.
This chapbook has been published in a limited print-run of 70 copies.
– from "Usage Error: Deep-seeded"
In this collection of poems, Jenny Yang Cropp reflects on a childhood marked by raw beauty and cruelty. The clarity and honesty of Cropp’s vision orders the world, and makes it luminous even as it measures the weight of trauma with terrible accuracy.
This chapbook has been published in a limited print-run of 70 copies.