Blood and Stone
What if: stone is what
you get. A gun of stone. What if
the table beneath it were:
& the walls catching the sound. What
if no one knew: you were
around. If people came: from stone
& found only that.
What if stones were: deaf & mute
& cold. What could be
warmed. What word would you hurl.
At what would you point
your blood. Of what is a stone:
composed: what holds what
to itself. What is there to break it
& why when it goes does it
go only: to smaller ones. A stone
has no center but itself. It only
breaks; it does not change. It only
goes from one to many. Stones
always exist. Stones always exist.
Stones always exist. Stones
always exist. There is no way out of this.
In Glass is Glass Water is Water, Rae Gouirand challenges the body of the poem to accommodate maximalist tensions as she names the dangers of figuration, the simultaneities and echoes and hauntings in intimate relationships, the queer bridges between living and ending. What breaks in these poems is not just the line but ‘the word saying itself.’
Rae Gouirand is the author of Open Winter (selected by Elaine Equi for the Bellday Prize for Poetry, Bellday Books, 2011) and Must Apple (selected by T.C. Tolbert for the Oro Fino Chapbook Award, Educe Press, 2018). Her poems have appeared recently in American Poetry Review, Beloit Poetry Journal, Conjunctions, Crazyhorse, diode, Michigan Quarterly Review, The Rumpus, ZYZZYVA, and many other journals and anthologies nationwide. She leads several longrunning workshops in poetry and prose in northern California and online, and lectures in the Department of English at UC-Davis.