40 Weeks

Dasbach (The Many Names for Mother) returns with a candid and kinetic chronicle of modern American pregnancy, including weekly notification of what size an embryo is in relation to different fruits and vegetables, “Yam/ bean, Mexican/ potato, Chinese/ turnip, how many/ names for what/ you carry?” The collection centers on the poet’s 40-week journey carrying her second child from the size of a poppy seed to pumpkin and “kam-kwat,/ little orange,/ sweetening.” In one poem, the speaker describes the reactions of strangers: “I’m gonna report you/ to the grocery store, a man/ yells passing, you stole/ one of their watermelons.” She corrects him, explaining the child is actually only the size of a pineapple. Providing a weekly log of her mental and physical state, Dasbach uses different fruits as springboards into bright, fertile imagery that connects her body to the broader questions of life cycles and existence: “Your stomach :/ a cosmos : constellations only beginning/ to glow : though its stars must have died/ long ago : rivers and rivers : for their light/ to trail down : a mother’s skin.” These poems are infused with sweet anticipation and tender anxiety, celebrating the mystery and magic of what the mothering body can do. (Apr.)