God, Gods, Powers, Lord, Universe— by Chen Chen
God, Gods, Powers, Lord, Universe—
Chen ChenIf you cannot, at the moment, give me much joy,
I get it. I have asked
& received many a great joy
already. Just give me, if you can spare it,
a small joy, say, the size
of a ketchup packet. If that’s too much
to ask for, then how about a small
kindness, a tiny kindness, the size of a kiss
from a dust mote? No?
Okay. Would it be possible for you to take
away some things, then? For instance,
the soreness on the right side of my neck?
If you could remove maybe half
a pinch of that soreness, I would leap up
as though it were a great joy. I mean,
it would absolutely be a great, great joy,
thank you in advance, O
highest O mightiest O most.
Still no? Well. What about this
sense that everything has become
very slippery, everything is slipping
right out of my fingers & faster
every day? I’m not asking you to cure
my fear. Nor unslipify
my fingers. Only, if you could,
if you have a quarter of a split
nanosecond, it would be
greatly appreciated, see, I don’t
need joy or kindness
or ketchup, I
beg you, if you are
a being, a higher, some
Mysteries that can listen, can
mercy, I just need to lose
a little
less quickly.
MARGINALIA
1.
I love the idea of joy the size of a ketchup packet. Not because it’s silly—though it is, beautifully—but because that’s the size I can hold right now. Anything more would tip me over.
2.
It’s hard to ask for help when you’ve already survived so much. I find myself negotiating with the air. Making deals with the silence. Saying: if I could just have this one small thing, I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. I won’t ask again.
3.
Listen, I don’t even want a miracle. Just a little less lower back pain. A moment where my heart doesn’t drop at the sound of the phone ringing in the middle of the night. A morning where I wake and I actually feel human. And yeah, maybe knees that are gentler to my ageing body.
4.
Everything keeps falling faster than I can catch it.
5.
If there’s anyone listening, I don’t need a grand gesture. Just a little time, a little kindness, slipped under the door of my tiny life. I’ll know it when I see it. I promise.
KEEP READING
SHARED WITH GRATITUDE
This poem appeared in Narrative Magazine, Spring 2023.
DESCRIPTION
“Since 2003 Narrative has been at the forefront of a new kind of library—a global meeting place, if you will, where readers and writers meet. We publish work of the highest literary caliber, offer opportunities for both established and emerging writers, host contests in search of a new generation of talent, provide reading and writing mentorship to underserved schools around the globe, and every day, all year we offer our expansive library of thousands of stories, poems, essays, cartoons, and more to readers everywhere for free.” (Source)
ABOUT CHEN CHEN
Chen Chen is the author of two books of poetry, Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency (2022) and When I Grow Up I Want to Be a List of Further Possibilities (2017), both published by BOA Editions and by Bloodaxe Books in the UK. His latest chapbook is Explodingly Yours (Ghost City Press, 2023). His writing is widely anthologized, including in 100 Poems That Matter, 100 Queer Poems, Poetry Is Not a Luxury, three editions of The Best American Poetry, and… (more)
ENDNOTES
- Explore other works in pursuit of: grief • mercy • questions • Or browse the index
- If this work resonates with you, please consider supporting the archive. Thank you for reading.
