{"id":16608,"date":"2011-06-08T12:00:53","date_gmt":"2011-06-08T16:00:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=16608"},"modified":"2011-06-08T13:50:30","modified_gmt":"2011-06-08T17:50:30","slug":"poem-precautions","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/06\/08\/poem-precautions\/","title":{"rendered":"Poem: Precautions"},"content":{"rendered":"

Here\u2019s a mysterious poem by Catherine Pierce about pregnancy and superstition. We were taken with the way it evokes the magical thinking that comes with vulnerability\u2014and the places where scientific advice about prenatal health subtly shades into paranoia and misplaced faith. Pierce lets us into the speaker\u2019s predicament but only so far, leaving the reader with a sense of heightened confusion and attentiveness to the instability of the world around us. Even the moon can seem twisted in this mindset.<\/em>\u2014Meghan O\u2019Rourke<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

PRECAUTIONS<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cIt is said that any pregnant woman who is startled by a hare or rabbit is likely to give birth to a child with a hare-lip.\u201d \u2013 Cassell\u2019s Dictionary of Superstitions<\/i><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

First I stopped wine, gin, the sharp tang
\nof tequila. I stopped coffee. I stopped<\/p>\n

swordfish. These were easy. Then I felt
\nslight movement inside me, light as a leaf,<\/p>\n

and I stopped running, lest I jar something loose.
\nI stopped leaning forward against the sink <\/p>\n

as I stroked on mascara. Then I stopped mascara,
\nso no poison could seep through my lashes. <\/p>\n

One day I stumbled over a curb, and that evening
\nI burned my heeled boots. On my way <\/p>\n

to the drugstore for vitamins, the car in front
\nof me skidded. I braked, swerved, lived, <\/p>\n

and drove home. Then I stopped driving.
\nSo many singers wailed never and baby and bleed <\/p>\n

that I had to stop listening. I began humming
\nto fill the air, then felt how vibrations shook me, <\/p>\n

and learned silence. On my morning walk,
\nthe horse in the field across the street stared, <\/p>\n

and in its white blaze I saw death by lightning.
\nI stayed home after that. The yard seemed safe <\/p>\n

until today, when the sun\u2019s new summer heat
\nmuscled against my body. I imagined a great egg <\/p>\n

poaching, so I went in and drew the curtains
\nfor cool. I kept busy disconnecting appliances. <\/p>\n

Then I sat still and tall in the center of my bed
\nuntil sundown. Now it\u2019s dusk, time of quiet <\/p>\n

and colorless light. I\u2019m careful. I crawl to the door,
\ninch out into the soft, blank air. But I hear the evening <\/p>\n

grass rustle near me. Just in time I catch myself
\nfrom turning. I wrench my head upward, and see <\/p>\n

instead the moon rising. There\u2019s nowhere left to look,
\nso I blink and blink until its twisted face is perfect.\n<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Catherine Pierce is the author of Famous Last Words <\/em>(Saturnalia, 2008) and the forthcoming The Girls of Peculiar<\/em> (Saturnalia, 2012). She co-directs the creative writing program at Mississippi State University. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Here\u2019s a mysterious poem by Catherine Pierce about pregnancy and superstition. We were taken with the way it evokes the magical thinking that comes with vulnerability\u2014and the places where scientific advice about prenatal health subtly shades into paranoia and misplaced faith. Pierce lets us into the speaker\u2019s predicament but only so far, leaving the reader […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":190,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[498],"tags":[2496,279,165],"class_list":["post-16608","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry-2","tag-catherine-pierce","tag-meghan-orourke","tag-poetry"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nPoem: Precautions by Catherine Pierce<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 8, 2011 \u2013 Here\u2019s a mysterious poem by Catherine Pierce about pregnancy and superstition. 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