Violet can’t wait to start playing the piano “Do you play the piano?” my friend asked me. “No,” I replied. Starting from when I was four, a lot of my kindergarten classmates started to play the piano. Of the thirteen students in my class, six played the piano, or at least an instrument. The seven people who didn’t play instruments included me. I should play the piano too, I thought to myself every time they asked me. But every time, I would only nod and smile and listen to what they had to say. I’d seen lots of people play the piano on TV or at concerts. I knew how it worked. You pressed down on one of the black or white keys and it would make a sound. However, I had never tried it myself. But one day, everything changed. That day, I was talking with one of my classmates, and Mom was standing nearby. “Do you play the piano?” my classmate asked. “No. I don’t,” I answered truthfully. “Do you want to?” Mom asked me. “Of course! May I?” I shouted in excitement. I imagined myself sitting in front of a piano lifting my hands, ready to play a song. “Maybe. I’ll talk with Dad,” Mom replied, smiling. And Dad agreed! I was so happy! The only thing I could think of was that I was going to play the piano. The piano arrived after three weeks. Four men arrived, pulling the piano behind them. “Sir, where do you want to put this?” they asked. “There, next to the desk. Yes, there.” Dad pointed. The piano was even bigger than I expected! It was twice the size of me, and who knew how much heavier! I touched the glossy lid and opened it. Beneath the lid, the black and white keys. According to Mom, there are 88 keys. I lightly touched one, and it made a tinkling sound. And I knew from that moment it would be staying with me for a long time. It would be my companion, my friend, and sometimes my torturer. Violet Lou, 10Beijing, China Serena Li, 9Scarsdale, NY
September 2021
Editor’s Note
After featuring long-form fiction in our summer issue, in this issue, I decided to focus on poetry and super short personal narratives. Although I love the way a good story can pull me in and away from the world, reading a novel can also be an exhausting experience—especially if you get caught up in marathon reading sessions as I do! One thing I love about shorter forms of writing is the way I can read them and return to the world feeling refreshed, as if I’ve just taken a brisk walk or had a drink of cool water on a hot day. I love to read a poem or a shorter narrative once through at a regular pace, and then reread it slower, and continue rereading and revisiting it at intervals. I have memorized some of my favorite poems and always find that their meaning seems to change (and expand!) over the years as my own experience grows and my perspective changes. Finally, I just want to note that many of the poems in this issue were submitted to our 2020 book contest as part of longer poetry manuscripts. Although we ultimately were not able to publish every manuscript we loved, we are thrilled to share some of this really excellent work with you! Enjoy the start of fall.
Thirteen poems from EARTH MATTERS
THE OPPOSITE OF EVERYTHING Logs sink while metals float. Dogs meow while cats bark. Private signs say “Trespassers welcome” while doormats say “Do not enter.” Worms fly while birds burrow. Trees grow underground while potatoes grow upside down. And all this is nonsense, but the opposite is too! META I am writing a poem about a poem in which the poem is about a poem! TONGUE-TIED I am jumping rope as if I were the Pope, flying cartwheels full of hope, except there’s no way to slope down the tangled rope, even when you’re the Pope. WRITING Try devouring a runaway pie you find irresistible but don’t know why. BONE FLUTES Flutes made of bones Have very strange tones. EXISTENTIAL CRISIS I am going to tell you a really long story . . . TTTTTTTTTTTTTTT HHHHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEE NNNNNNNNNNN DDDDDDDDDDD. MONEY Money money money Money money money Money money money Why don’t we forget about buying money with our own money and live life instead? STARS Stars upon stars upon stars upon stars, as if the sky had scars. LONG AND SHORT A football field is long, but a bug is short. A bug is long, but a cell is short. A cell is long, but an atom is short. An atom is long, but . . . HOT CHOCOLATE Right after a snowstorm, the valleys are no longer torn, and a blanket of white is born, though the blanket is never warm. FLIES Zipping here and there with dirty feet, landing on a birthday cake, electric swatters and regular swatters, hands clapping long after the candles have gone out. PARADOX What if the world was upside down but while it was upside down it was also right-side up! MATERIALISM Nobody cares about the great outdoors, only their own puny properties . . . a leak in the ceiling, someone to mow the lawn, a broken air conditioner . . . People will pay for these things, but no one stops to wonder about species on the verge of extinction: Galapagos tortoises, Leatherback sea turtles, Giant pandas, Blue whales, Asian elephants . . . Benjamin Ding, 9Jericho, NY
