Render

By Sachiko Murakami

• This is the fourth poetry collection by Toronto writer Sachiko Murakami, whose first three books were published by Talonbooks: The Invisibility Exhibit (2008), Rebuild (2011), and Get Me Out of Here (2015). Render is arguably Sachiko’s most personal book, documenting her experiences with trauma, addiction, and recovery.
• In Sachiko’s own words: “In the past I never would have thought of these subjects as worthy of poetry, but I have been emboldened by the younger generation of poets … I got clean and sober in 2010, and was for many years an active member of AA. The past three years I have stepped back from ‘the program,’ which has created enough psychic space to trouble the idea of recovery beyond its straightforward, happily-ever-after narrative.”
• The poems are immersive and dream-like; Sachiko works through the aftermath of her addiction, and the work necessary for recovery. The collection ends on a positive note, with Sachiko pregnant (she is about to give birth as of this writing).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Arsenal Pulp Press
• Release date: Oct 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781551528281

Book preview

WHAT FIST IS THIS

regarding the end of here

MILK NIGHTMARE

Night training: a babe becomes accustomed

to the soothing taste of absence.

That same child grows up

and chooses a safe word: milk.

—

I say, We need milk. Everyone agrees

to my duplicity. I pantomime mouthfuls

of emptiness, one hand on the doorknob.

—

Need seems like the only memory

when it is present. First driving need,

then flat-out more. Hauled

to the brink of nightmare

conclusion, counting seconds.

Need. Need. Need.

Need. Need.

—

Need more.

—

Claw the dream dictionary

looking for citations

of original thirst.

Scrub the carpet’s traces

of spilled milk.

Count every Tuesday you wake up,

thirsty, needful, sore.

DINNER TABLE

In the dream, the set table signals a romantic meal,

some fruitful beginning to some other dinner.

In the memory, it’s the usual set-up, the weekday deal:

my place to the right of the father,

overcooked salmon, buttered rice, pitcher of

iced water. Mother missing. Didn’t