Elaina M. Ellis, WRITE ABOUT AN EMPTY BIRDCAGE

WRITE ABOUT AN EMPTY BIRD CAGE, Elaina M. Ellis, Write Bloody Publishing, 2011.

I bought this odd collection of poems by Elaina M. Ellis a few years ago, at the Chuckanut Writers Conference. Every so often I pick it up and am inspired by its bravery, its sexual bravado, and its writing prompts. The poems are arranged into 5 sections:

Write About an Empty Birdcage
Advice for the Newly Single
What I Wish for at 11:11
Write About an Ugly Animal
Welcome Back

Some of the poems are long, dense with detail, rich with the nerve it takes for a young woman in our culture (think 2011 and before) to come out and be completely herself. This short poem struck me; it’s from the first section, but I imagine the prompt as, Write about something intangible that you inherited from your family:

Heirloom

There is a loose strand of inheritance
called appetite. I have pulled it slow

from the hem of my mother’s skirt.
She is unraveled, but see—

it was not hers to begin with.
Let us pray.

Our Fathers, who emptied the shelves
so we could not get fat,

hollow be thy names. See
how I am still eating.

I have smashed down every quiet bit
of plate and glass from the cupboard.

—Elaina M. Ellis

Because I have three young (or “youngish,” at this point) daughters, each of whom has struggled in one way or another with relationships—with themselves, with others—I appreciated this book. It made me wonder if (reading through “Advice for the Newly Single”) I couldn’t challenge myself to be…braver. (Not yet.)

This poem reminded me of when my girls were young. Stuck in the car with me, if they saw the dashboard clock read 11:11, they would shout out the number, squeeze shut their eyes, and make a wish. If you shared the wish, they said, it wouldn’t come true. What did they wish for? What do I wish for?

What I Wish for at 11:11

I want
a fat blue bird
to keep me awake at night.
I want a room full of her loud
blue rustles. I want a fat blue bird
to shake and shriek her fat blue body
truly through me. I want fat
mouthfuls of feathers,
pillows stained
blue.

—Elaina M. Ellis

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