On Anger

This 18-line poem is written in free verse: without a specific rhyme or metrical scheme. The speaker is a Black woman; the racial and gender details combined with the use of the first person suggests that the speaker is the author. She is in dialogue with her white psychologist (who is identified as a woman with the pronoun “she” in the second line). The poem follows a therapy session at the psychologist’s home office.

In the first line of the poem, the speaker quotes her therapist; the italicized “edge” defines the titular “anger,” which is the referent of the first pronoun (“it”) that occurs. Before the speaker reinterprets this “it,” there is a line break, separating the definitions.

The second line includes words by both the white therapist (again in italics) and the Black speaker that are set up as synonymous: “Angry Black Woman” and “Strength.” Placing a line break before the continuation of the therapist’s second phrase for anger emphasizes the first word of that phrase.

The therapist’s second phrase is completed in the third line: “Strength / of Willful Negative Focus” and is built upon with the beginning of a third phrase for anger: “Acerbic.” The breaking up of the third phrase is significant because it places the negative words (“willful” and “acerbic,” as well as “negative”) in the same line.

In the fourth line, the therapist’s third phrase is completed: “Acerbic / Intellectual Temperament.” The (relatively) positive quality of intellect is connected with a physical act—the first embodied act of the poem. However, the tactile nature of the act is not revealed until the next line; “copy[ing]” could refer to verbal mimicry.

Line 5 clarifies that the copying is taking place on an index card, transforming the therapist’s spoken words into written text. The line ending with “she wants” refers not only to the sentence that follows, but also to the therapist’s desire for the speaker to write down her words, with the implication of memorizing them. Note-taking (a type of writing therapy) is a common part of therapeutic practice.

In the next line, the therapist seems to be seeking a history of trauma. Treatment of PTSD/CPTSD often includes finding an “origin” point. The kind of trauma that the therapist is asking about is delayed over the line break, placing the stranger’s hand on Line 6 and where that hand might go in the following line. This physical white space created by enjambment separates the potential abuser from the victim.

Line 7 clarifies that the therapist is asking about molestation or rape. There is a strong contrast set up with this line beginning with the word “inside” and ending with the word “without”; the latter refers to the speaker not experiencing the kind of trauma the therapist is asking about, as well as contrasting internalized, past experience with external, ongoing pressures.

In the eighth line, the speaker discusses how her narrative is disjointed or untidy, which disappoints the therapist. Ending the line on “We” (which begins a new sentence) can imply that the speaker is also disappointed or that this interaction between two individuals is part of the disjointed nature of the speaker’s pain.

The ninth line is where the reader begins to get a sense of place alongside the growing physical action. A ritual burning is occurring in the therapist’s home: “her living room floor.” Ending the line on “I burn” allows for the act to represent both the physical burning of letters as well as the emotional burning of anger that the speaker possesses.

In the 10th line, the speaker reveals that the objects being burned are letters. Here, the syntactical choice of ending a line on a verb—”watch”—and withholding the object until the next line continues; this occurs for three consecutive lines, emphasizing the active part of speech.

The 11th line develops the image of fire with the phrase “paper ember.” These words contain an internal rhyme (er/er) and have the same metrics, which connects them—bringing the life of words on the page and death of the medium in fire together. This line’s imagery gives more detail to the therapist’s living room: it contains a “fireplace.” Also, as the third line with a verb as the last word, the diction—”admit”—indicates a shift in tone and a turn (sometimes called a volta) in the direction of the poem.

In the 12th line, the speaker begins to reveal how she wants to embrace anger rather than let it go. The diction of “anger” appears in the title, in Line 2 as “angry,” and here in Line 12 as “anger” again. This repetition emphasizes how the meaning of the word transforms in the poem, and specifically takes a turn down another path here.

Line 13 introduces a metaphor of anger as armor, a type of armor that is found deep in the bone. This changes the usual connotations of armor from an external outfit that can be taken off to armor that cannot be easily, or perhaps ever, extracted.

In the 14th line, the speaker focuses on identity. The period in the middle of the line creates a chiasmus (a visual break) where one idea about identity--the current sense of self—is separated from another idea about identity: how one can change.

The 15th line brings an italicized voice back into the poem. It could be read as the voice of the therapist and/or a more general saying, or aphorism. The speaker’s sentence from the previous line concludes here with “without it,” where again the pronoun “it” refers to anger. There is a paradox here: The absence of anger is juxtaposed with the italicized voice talking about an omnipresence (“wherever”).

The 16th line completes the italicized phrase—a sort of direct quote—and moves to a fragment of paraphrased language. The therapist’s question about loss puts the word “lose” at the end of the line, emphasizing the reader’s need to seek the rest of the sentence in the following line; half the sentence is lost in this line.

In the 17th line, another image is introduced: a fish. This watery creature contrasts with the aforementioned fire. It is also a dead fish, “gutted,” which creates a parallel with the destructive power of fire. This alludes to “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop.

The final line develops the description of the fish, which is a metaphor for how the speaker would feel without her anger. The fish’s broken exterior “gleam[s],” but it is internally empty. This metaphor indicates that the speaker feels that releasing anger would make her shinier—more acceptable or attractive—to white society, but it would leave her without an integral part of herself.