The Daughter I Don't Have

by Lyn Lifshin

Published by Plan B Press, December 2005. 44 pp. Staple-bound, $8.00 US

Available from the publisher or the author (signed)

Review by John Birkbeck

Excerpts from other reviews

The Daughter I Don’t Have imagines a daughter who will never be, how she will never look, behave, respond; traits that will never be passed on. At time melancholy, at others forthright, Lifshin’s poems reflect the person her narrator has become and gone through as much as the they explore the person she will never be without a daughter. These poems eloquently drip the missing pieces of this woman’s life, the empty spaces forming a completed person; the daughter who isn’t has become someone, wholly.

from the foreword:

"A few years ago there was a call out for poems about not having a daughter. I’ve often loved the challenge of writing something I might never have when asked to and this was a challenge I couldn’t resist. I got into the project and wrote most of the poems close in time.

Not all, but most of the poems were written for this project. Some were earlier. But once I started, I didn’t want to stop. I hope imagining what isn’t there will make her more real. She has given me a lot to think about."

THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE

will have strong
Georgia O’Keefe
hands that could
carry what she
needed, would
know when to
let go. She’d
feel plum light
in a treeless
slope, could
listen for hours
to the night
sounds of the
prairie, not
need a world
with roads. The
daughter I
don’t have would
smell sun on her
skin, could
walk away from
movie theaters,
galleries, feast
on the iridescence
of shooting stars,
shapes like blue
lace moving
into shadows and like
O Keefe, see only
the curves and
textures—
not earth in
bleached skulls

THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE

could be my other.
I’ve felt her at
the windows some
nights like some
one who goes back
to a house she
lived in, stares at
herself staring
in. Leaves clot
in the eaves. Slate
is covered with
ivy. She hides in
jade camouflaged,
waiting in the rain,
dreams of hammers
silver as piano keys pulled from
pieces of her heart
to open mine

THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE

would be in
love with poppies,
their opening
petals wildly
bright as inside
a mouth. She’d
bury herself in
a field of them,
feel gold pollen
on her ankles
like honey and
not wait for the
mail, for phones.
This daughter
would be friends
with herself,
not battle with
what she could
have or should.
What she feels
and thinks as
close as letters
that stand together
but don’t rub
the other out

THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE

jolts up in the
middle of the night
to curl closer than
skin, pink tongued
in a flannel dress
I wore once in some
story. I part her
hair, braid her
to me as if to
keep what I can’t
close, like hair
wreathes under
glass in New
England. Or maybe
pull the hair into
a twist above the
nape of her neck,
kiss what’s exposed
so wildly part of
her stays with me

THE DAUGHTER I DON’T HAVE

could counterfeit my
face and sighs. She
puts on my cashmere
from college, my
new sheet baby T.
She’s clever, out
wits me as only a
good counterfeiter
can. She used to
leave her hair in
the sink. Now she’s
more subtle but she
still plays tricks,
hooks a belt on the
hole I’d never use
so I won’t forget
her. Her profit
comes from watching
me squirm, knowing
if I’d just made a
reproduction of my
self, she wouldn’t
have to spy on me,
tend to details,
perfecting what is
not real so well
she may never be
recognized

Plan B Press
c/o Steven May
P.O. Box 2080
Philadelphia, PA 19103

Publisher will accept check, money order or Paypal.

Review by John Birkbeck

Lyn Lifshin has gone a step beyond her eerie ability
to project her persona into other times and places.
In her latest chapbook, “The Daughter I Don’t Have,”
she is able to operate in the space-time of an
alternate universe of the probable. In this universe
she conjures into life, a daughter who has not (yet?)
been born.

This daughter she doesn’t have, nevertheless
comes into life as the parallel, yet invisible, yet
perceivable “Other” who has an existence that seems
real, and individual qualities of appearance and
character that bloom into life from the imagination of
the poet.

This daughter takes her substance from what she is
not as well as what she “is.” She lacks the negatives
in the life of the Present Conditional, and the
positives of virtual life in the Future Perfect. The
Future Perfect being a virtual Here and Now. These
poems are unavoidable evidence of the continual and
ceaseless burgeoning of Lifshin’s poetic imagination.

from reviews of 'The Daughter I Don't Have' :

"What a fun collection of poems! If you are looking for a playful, imaginative series of poems, look no further. I enjoyed every minute of this chapbook, and so will you. Highly recommended."

Laura Stamps

"Lyn Lifshin has gone a step beyond her eerie ability to project her persona into other times and places. In her latest chapbook, "The Daughter I Don’t Have" she is able to operate in the space-time of an alternate universe of the probable. In this universe she conjures into life, a daughter who has not (yet?) been born.

"This daughter she doesn’t have, nevertheless comes into life as the parallel, yet invisible, yet perceivable "Other" who has an existence that seems real, and individual qualities of appearance and character that bloom into life from the imagination of the poet.

" This daughter takes her substance from what she is not as well as what she "is". She lacks the negatives in the life of the Present Conditional, and the positives of virtual life in the Future Perfect. The Future Perfect being a virtual Here and Now. These poems are unavoidable evidence of the continual and ceaseless burgeoning of Lifshin’s poetic imagination."

John Birkbeck