Fran Qi
Poetry
Fran Qi is a lost engineer and a renewed writer based out of San Francisco. She writes some fiction, but mostly poems, published in Sky Island Journal, Orange Blossom Review, Dawn Review, Cincinnati Review and elsewhere.
blueberries
in season.
elbows on the kitchen counter, chewing
over retrieval and cycles and odds. each berry plump, bursting
of promise and sweetness
lined up 24 in two rows on a dishtowel. saying if each
is an egg, if each is thawed or kept frozen, if each were
a dormant, luscious life.
pregnant with choices and decisions—can you call a donor a lover?
this man is 6'1" and runs. this one is 5'10" and studies law but
is he curious
does he laugh unbounded
do dogs fear him
is his voice a thunderstorm coming or going
does he love summer
fruits best, purple and wild?
there are no answers and no romance.
eat the questions, chase
with blueberries, worry
the seeds from teeth later.
“ My friend and I stand in her kitchen eating blueberries and strategizing how many eggs should she freeze, should she go through another round, and at what cost. The blueberries present themselves as a poem as we line them up on the dishtowel, futures laid out before her. ”