Adrienne Su

Oct 21, 2024 | thecommononline.org | Adrienne Su

By ADRIENNE SUI had had my fill, but I kept devoting more days, then weeks to it, buying books, making no plans, as if empty slots would well up with rain, pushing anyone who might edge into my space away as if by natural forces. I never pledged anything permanent to it,  but habit carves rock. Why did I think a movie,  a concert, a game would drown something out? I have come to my senses. I believe in books, but they have their place. The flowers in them lack scent.

Jan 11, 2024 | thecommononline.org | Adrienne Su |Eleanor Stanford |Kwame Opoku-Duku |William Fargason

New poems by ADRIENNE SU, ELEANOR STANFORD, KWAME OPOKU-DUKU, and WILLIAM FARGASONTable of Contents:Adrienne Su, “Solitude”Eleanor Stanford, “Lover, before the pandemic”Kwame Opoku-Duku, “Glory”William Fargason, “Holy Saturday”Solitude By Adrienne SuMy body rebelledagainst the amorphousnessof Americanmotherhood, which askedme to be availableas if I were fivewomen: two grandmas,a sister-in-law, an aunt,and me, whoeverthat was anymore(amorphous from the Greek a,without, morphè, shape).

Dec 18, 2023 | newyorker.com | Adrienne Su

I had his back, but he distrusted the obscurity. He used to complain that I walked too quickly;now I was measuring paces, hanging back,willing him the confidence not to check. It’s not that he wasn’t alert. Despite the powerof his voice, he had always been a listener;that’s what drew me to him first. He didn’t performwhen not performing. That’s why I saw himwhere I couldn’t see others, who made an audienceof everyone they met.