– Home
– Issues
– Submit
– About

TPCReview Issue 001

Laura Wang

Last December in Taipingshan

up slick stairs we walked
among the tall furred cypresses
together and solitary raindrops
falling on us and from us
onto the earth

at the bottom of the mountain the water
came up again hot and sulfurous
we boiled eggs and corn
we lost them in the steam and
found them again
for laughs we put in an apple I was afraid
it would fall apart
it did not fall apart
no

I remember sometimes
as I remember now
how to be among people how to unbend
how not to fear disintegration
I taste a hot apple
soft grainy and surprisingly
familiar bite by bite
we share it among friends
in the growing dark forgetting cold
forgetting rain forgetting solitude
yes yes I remember it now
sweetness on the tongue

Abecedarian for Back to School

Announcing themselves or slipping in quietly, they carry
backpacks or tote bags or purses half-filled with makeup.
Charms dangle from zippers: Jujutsu Kaisen, Kirby, Pikachu.
Dead-eyed before coffee, or
energetic before lunch or winter break or a spring
Friday afternoon: with the sun streaming bright through dirty panes, they’re
giddy as blossoms and bursting with laughter—or they’re
hanging back to ask a question, to talk to someone, anyone.
In every season: iced coffee and crop tops, yes, even in
January. They say, Hey—what do you ask oxygen and potassium, are you O
K? Cue eye roll and reluctant
laughter. Lots of other laughter, too.
Miss, miss! See what I did here. I have a question. I didn’t do the homework. What do I do
next? Wait, we had homework? Wait, when’s the test?
Open your notebook. Find a blank
page.
Quiet down, please. I’ll wait.
Remember what we did yesterday? Last week?
Sit in your groups.
Take two minutes to turn and talk. What did you
used to think? Now—
                                                now we know how to be
very quiet.
When to lock the door. Where to find the
exits. How to block the windows, to stay in the corners.
Yes, it will be over soon. I think. I can make
zero promises. 

Laura Wang is a writer and public school teacher based in New York and, when the stars align, Taipei.