So when she looks at her reflection
If there is an anteroombetween here and an afterlife,there paces my mother, not renownedfor her patienceso give her a break, gatekeeper,save yourself from her exasperationand answer when she rapsher knuckles, smartly,two times, pause, three times—for God's sake, let her in.We had a foyer, but never keptpeople waiting there—they were inor out, with one exception:the burglar who we would exclude,had he not found his wayupstairs and scrawled a menace,"Smile" in lipstick near my room,having mastered irony, no ordinary felon.I ran upstairs before my mother knewfear, came down when I found it.If Lethe is your transition of choice,let her cross and begin the forgettingand give her a life-jacketon the way over or she willdrive you crazy: why drown after dying?Lend a mirror so she can put onher face and bring a little artificewith her. Let the waters erasethe memory of fear, anonymousyears, indignity of the body's betrayals,but leave the odd narrative—shouldn't we be able to takeone story with us? Not evena pleasant one—just to knowwho you were, where you stood?If you never had a foyer,you'd imagine itmore grand than it was: really, it wasjust a threshold, a placeto arrive, pause, abandon.
Feature Date
- October 20, 2019
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Copyright © 2019 by Patty Seyburn
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Patty Seyburn has previously published five collections of poems, most recently Threshold Delivery (Finishing Line Press, 2019). She earned a BS and an MS in Journalism from Northwestern University, an MFA in Poetry from University of California, Irvine, and a Ph.D. in Poetry and Literature from the University of Houston. She is a professor at California State University, Long Beach. www.pattyseyburnpoet.com
Georgetown, Kentucky
"I read Patty Seyburn’s Threshold Delivery in one sitting with both admiration and envy. I kept looking for a lame, even a mediocre poem, but (alas) (I mean thankfully!) found none. This is intimidating for fellow poets but absolutely fantastic for readers. Rather magically, Seyburn charts a poetic landscape that maps memory, the voices of her children, philosophical inquiry, the Talmud, and the persistent presence of death. Oh, and Mah Jongg. I remain in awe of her wit, both wry and sly as well as her sense of craft. Realistic yet revelatory, lyric yet lapidary, dark yet delightful, in the Charleston that is this life, I’d be happy to be passed Threshold Delivery in every hand. It is a remarkable book."
—Dean Rader
"In Threshold Delivery, Patty Seyburn’s wit is gorgeously, ruthlessly inventive—death-harrowed and hope-shaded; it is deployed not for its own sake, but in the service of a moment when mortal truths break a poem, and us, wide open. 'Shouldn’t we be able to take / one story with us? Not even / a pleasant one—just to know / who you were, where you stood? / If you never had a foyer, / you’d imagine it / more grand than it was: really, it was just a threshold, a place / to arrive, pause, abandon.' Seyburn writes against abandon. Her riveting attention fixes us here, in the fleeting world."
—Dorothy Barresi
"Throughout Threshold Delivery, Seyburn writes honestly, at times comically, about her complex relationship with her late mother, seeking, along the way, a family lineage that is not, finally, traceable, lamenting that loss, too. These strong poems are informed as much by the specifics of a mother’s and daughter’s life — 'what is memory without specifics” — as they are by the literary tradition out of which the poems arise and Jewish culture, practice, and thought, on whose wisdom and lore the poems draw as they try to make sense of what comes after life."
—Richard Chess
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