ISSN: 1941-4137
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
POETRY THAT ENACTS THE ARTISTIC AND CREATIVE PURITY OF GLASS
Amanda Auchter is the author of The Wishing Tomb, winner of the PEN Center USA Literary Award for Poetry and the Perugia Press Book Award, and The Glass Crib, winner of the Zone 3 Press First Book Award for Poetry. Her writing has appeared in publications such as American Poetry Review, Alaska Quarterly Review, HuffPost, CNN, Crab Creek Review, Shenandoah, The Massachusetts Review, and the Academy of American Poets Poem-a-Day Project, among others. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Bennington College and is a book reviewer for Rhino Poetry and The Indianapolis Review. She lives in Houston, TX with her husband and their menagerie of rescue cats. When not writing, she knits for charities.
Also by Amanda Auchter:
The Glass Crib
The Wishing Tomb
I couldn't breathe — and I couldn't get tested
An Interview with Amanda Auchter
July 3, 2024
Imaginary Son: Caul
In the imaginary delivery room,
you are born with a caul. You
become my talisman, my charm
against drowning. Your face is opaque
as the painted walls. I want
to believe in omens, that you are safe,
that love can remain abuzz
inside me. The nurse peels away
the fine linen, your pale
crown. You bring forth
your damp notes and an ocean
of water spills to the floor.
O my seabird suspended,
open your dark violets. In the after-
noon light, in the after
of birthing you twice,
I am the first star you see,
the wailing storm holding you close.
I am the last lighthouse.
Sometimes, the shipwreck.
I've been working on a book-length series of "Imaginary Son" poems. I've created a character of a woman who discovers she is not able to have children, and is so devastated by this news, she begins to imagine an alternate life where she is a mother and questions how her life would be different in terms of not only the everyday, but in terms of the socio-political as well. I gave the imaginary baby a caul because I find the legend and folklores surrounding cauls fascinating. Some belief groups find them lucky and others find them evil, whereas others still believe that if you're born with a caul, you will be safe from drowning. I was raised in a large family (seven siblings!) where my parents were also foster parents, so babies have always been an integral part of my life. I don't have children because of a congenital defect, but I admire mothers and the act of motherhood a great deal. I also am a big fan of the BBC show, Call the Midwife.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published weekly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.
All contents © the author.
