Author photo by Scott Tsuchitani
Chen Chen is the author of When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities, which was longlisted for the National Book Award and won the A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize, the GLCA New Writers Award, the Texas Book Award for Poetry, and the Thom Gunn Award for Gay Poetry. Bloodaxe Books will publish the UK edition in 2019. Chen's work appears in many publications, including Poem-a-Day and The Best American Nonrequired Reading. He has taught at Syracuse University and Texas Tech University; currently he is the Jacob Ziskind Poet-in-Residence at Brandeis University. He co-founded and co-runs the journal, Underblong. He lives with his partner and their pug dog, Mr. Rupert Giles.
Chen Chen
& then a student stands up, says, Are you serious?
to the student who’s still standing,
who’s just finished presenting what sounded like
a Sahara-dry book report — until
the last sentence, Guns are not the problem,
which she said like
an eager teacher, like she was, is, in fact, at the front
of the classroom.
& then, the classmate. Her Are you serious? with a great
snort of a laugh
that means, I am serious, I am
standing. & I stand up,
from a chair in the back. & everyone goes silent,
even the student who taps, always
taps his foot against his backpack on the floor, he stops,
while I start looking to the birds
outside our window, wishing they would
beak right through, bird
me away. Me, the brilliant one who decided
current events, sure,
guns, yes, my students finally want to talk,
let them.
Guns are not the problem? How are they
not? & my feet
want to stomp in agreement. My legs
want to stand with
this student, her questions, not with the one who began
her presentation, Gun ownership
is a basic American right, an important part of what makes
our society free. & despite the impressive
lack of intonation, my chest wondered if
she owned a gun, if
she ever carried in class, if I would notice, if she noticed
during her five minutes
how I was trying not to be angry with her
five minutes — my trying,
my face, she must’ve seen.
Still she stood.
We are standing. & my chest tries to laugh
a laugh that means, This is serious, this
is the class.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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