Poem: (Intuitions. You)

In Coral Bracho’s poem, translated from Spanish by Forrest Gander, we witness the thoughts of the poet’s mother, who died of complications from Alzheimer’s. The mother vividly displays the terror of losing herself in a formerly capable and functioning mind and body. Initially she is quick to answer her own questions with confusion and confidence. Questions soon disappear as she begins to describe the surroundings around her in a state of imaginative, surreal speculation. Selected by Victoria Chang

(Intuitions. You)

By Coral Bracho, translated by Forrest Gander

My suitcase is not here
but neither does the room.
Which room? I haven’t been in any
Rooms here, but there must have been one.
did i sleep in it
There were some people but I don’t know if I was there.
Where have they left their bags?
Two of them just passed me
before turning into the corridor.
But which one? All hallways are white
and they appear to be padded.
It must have been these two that brought me to this place.
They probably took a shower
And no doubt they assume I know how to get there
or to the room
or to a more central hallway
it must be here somewhere
where do the suitcases go
one next to the other on a device of red tubes.
But who knows if mine will be there too.
I hear the sound of the showers.
They are fully open and the water gushes out
and whirls away, but there’s something dirty
that doesn’t expire.
First I have to find my suitcase
although there is no place to put it in the showers.
The people who came in aren’t here anymore.
I’ll wait here and see if anyone comes by
who can tell me how to get back. Or see if they
want to lead me

Victoria Chang is a poet whose new book of poetry is The Trees Witness Everything (Copper Canyon Press, 2022). Her fifth volume of poetry, Obit (2020), was named a Notable Book and Time Must-Read by the New York Times. She lives in Los Angeles and teaches in Antioch University’s MFA program. Bracho Coral is the author of many volumes of poetry, including Firefly Under the Tongue (New Directions, 2008) and It Must Be a Misunderstanding (New Directions, 2022), which feature this poem. She has received the Aguascalientes National Poetry Prize, a Guggenheim Fellowship and the Xavier Villaurrutia Award, among others. Bracho was born in Mexico City and still lives there.