Today’s choice
Previous poems
Hongwei Bao
Mum’s Skull Contains a Vacuum Cleaner
Every five minutes it does its job,
hoovers every inch of her memory,
declutters all pains and sorrows.
It booms, roars, heats up,
leaves no space for nostalgia.
When I ask her if she’s had dinner,
she says she doesn’t know.
Then I offer to take her out for a walk,
she asks me who I am.
I wish I could take that machine away
so I could talk about my childhood, our old
labrador, my half-deaf Dad, never
complaining sister. How selfish that would be
to drag her into my own memory!
Perhaps having a hoover in her head
is not a bad thing, keeps her care-
free like a child. I hope the machine
will never break down, and smile
forever remain on her face.
Hongwei Bao (he/him) is a queer Chinese writer and academic based in Nottingham, UK. His work explores queer desire, Asian identity, diasporic positionality and transcultural intimacy. He is the author of the poetry pamphlet Dream of the Orchid Pavilion (Big White Shed Press 2024) and the poetry collection The Passion of the Rabbit God (Valley Press, 2024).
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