Claire Becker teaches high school students at the California School for the Blind and co-edits the online journal RealPoetik. She is the author of Where We Think It Should Go (Octopus Books, 2010) and the chapbooks Young Adult (Boxwood Editions, 2010), Get You (Duration Press, 2009), and Untoward (Lame House Press, 2007).
Poems should go to where we think, which means that they often end up in the loneliest, most impossible places. (California’ll do, but there are others.) Claire Becker’s poems have [. . .] got a throb at which it’s hard not to wonder and, like more than one of us, an aching oddball soul.
A slowdown can last
orty-five minutes. You’re watching
the accident, I’m watching the slowdown.
The ball in my inner ear
treats me like a baby.
I picture your whole face
in the hair salon
saying, I’m the alcoholic.
Today I threw my trash.
Saying, I’m the one with one hand,
holding it up. I touch you,
that’s haptic, locate the silent
head, folded knee.
I know my joints.
Shame’s hairy or soft.