Marfa, Texas, and Marfa, Texas, and Marfa, Texas

Abstract

Marfa, Texas, and Marfa, Texas, and Marfa, Texas Victoria Chang (bio) Marfa, Texas Today I tried to open theriver. But when I pulled, thewhole river disappeared. Iused to think that languagecame from the body. Now I know it is in that groupof mountains in the fieldbeyond the fence. Yesterday, Isaw a red-tailed hawk. When Iwent near it, it took the wind with it. I was leftwithout air. But I could stillbreathe. I realized everythingaround me I could dowithout. I could hear the mountains but nothing else.I saw a car start up but Iheard nothing. A gray-hairedwoman said hello to me but Iheard nothing. I stood and watched the hawk. It neverlooked at me but knew I wasthere. Neither of us moved.Finally, it flew to the top of anelectric pole. I realized the pole is allthe years of my life, themountains applause, thehawk, what I have been tryingto tell myself. [End Page 40] Marfa, Texas Here, there are grasses rolledinto dry moons, then cartedoff on trailers to the edge ofthe rain. Here, there is somuch sky that even birds get lost. Oh to be loved theway the day loves the night.See how slowly they separate?All day long the trees move,each leaf in a different direction, as if bythe work of fingers on a body.How many times our bodiesimagined by another mind.How many times the day imagined the night. Once Iloved a man so much thatwhen he didn't love me back,I closed my eyes and drank awhole bottle of night. How I felt night rush into mybody, then out through myskin as envelopes. At the time,I only felt pain but years later,all I remember is joy, the kind of love that seemsgrinded off of a moon.Perhaps such love cannotever be returned, just returnedin the imagination. [End Page 41] Marfa, Texas Today, I saw art objects leftover by people who are dead.They have forgotten us. Dothey know they have forgottenus? Or are they actually watchingus? Once my heart sat insidethe bell. It rang only whensomething touched it. Latelyevery shadow is my dead mother.Lately the bell rings all thetime but the bell is empty.Lately I have forgotten how tolove the surface. I only love the drowning. Doyou see how beautiful theyare? Those people withoutshoulders? Withouthesitations? Is it possible to stop lovingeverything? The owl. Thehawk. Every person I meet. Tosee everyone as my mother. Tohave a heart like this is to be made ofmidnight. There are alwaystoo many questions to answer.To love so much is to livewithin birds. I have been waiting forthis heart to fade or atleast to kneel. Maybe theheart is not inside me but Iam inside it. [End Page 42] Victoria Chang Victoria Chang's poetry books include OBIT (Copper Canyon, 2020), Barbie Chang (Copper Canyon, 2017), The Boss (McSweeney's, 2013), Salvinia Molesta (University of Georgia Press, 2008), and Circle (Southern Illinois University Press, 2005). Her children's books include Is Mommy? (Simon & Schuster, 2015), illustrated by Marla Frazee, and Love, Love (Sterling, 2020), a middle grade novel. She lives in Los Angeles. Copyright © 2020 Middlebury College Publications