Things on Fire by Fatima Van Hattum

Things on Fire

by Fatima Van Hattum

A flat, so small, the stove

was also the counter, the rice

cooking on the back burner

and the cutting board, balanced on the front,

red peppers sliced thin

one time, I turned my back for a minute to finish

the climax to a story, you yelled

the cutting board was on fire

the door to the shower hit against the toilet and


you had to turn sideways to get in


the bathroom was through our bedroom


I hid under the covers in the morning so your brother


could come through and pee


nothing ever quite fit

I have seven countertop appliances in


this house in America and, I swear


there are still eight square feet of countertop and


I have never lit a cutting board on fire here


if I curl up in a ball, my body takes up maybe


2.5 cubic feet of this expansive place, a fraction of


how many balled up people could fit here


there are parallels, in this kitchen too, I was


distracted by the details, while the climax happened


behind me

This poem was published in the Portland Review in 2021; you can read it there by clicking here. There are two poems by this poet on the page, and both are equally wonderful. You can learn more about this poet on her website here.

I love the title of this poem. "Things" is a tricky word in poetry. Generally, you want to avoid it because it is not specific. But sometimes, you want that vague generality, as here. This title pulled me in to this poem--what things? why? how?

The use of the word "flat" in the first stanza tells us we are not in the United States. The poet gives us the setting immediately without explaining. And the description continues, providing a vivid picture of this tiny kitchen. In the last line, we are introduced to a "you," and it is this person the speaker is talking to.

Stanza two--just one line--gives us our first thing on fire--a cutting board.

From that one room we venture out to the rest of this small flat. And there, in that third stanza's last line, we get a hint that this poem is going to go beyond fires in a wee apartment." Of course it is! It's a poem!

The poem's last stanza takes place in another kitchen, a large kitchen in the US. The speaker refers back to the cutting board--"I have never lit a cutting board on fire here"--a line I love for both its humor and its interesting way of describing the size of this kitchen. That comparison and that bit of humor continues--"how many balled up people could fit here."

The speaker tells us there are parallels and reveals that other things have happened, but that she was distracted and those things (we have to assume here they were life-changing in some way because if not, why write a poem about it?) happened, like the cutting board on fire, when she had her back turned and her attention elsewhere.

Keep in mind the title is Things on fire, not Thing. The poem ends where it began, but also different. A kitchen, but presumably not a kitchen with the you. The speaker's description of the new kitchen is different than her description of the old one; the first stanza is more of a reminder while the fourth stanza--with its numbers, measurements, and comparisons, is more informative. All of which leads me to believe the you is no longer in the speaker's life, and the other thing that burned was their relationship. Remember, too, the line "nothing ever quite fit." Even more devastating when used to describe a relationship than a flat.

This poem brilliantly mixes specific details with hints that are not specific, both of which show the reader what the point is and suggesting conclusions. This is what poetry wants from its readers; if not, poets would write prose. This is also why many poets are such good nonfiction writers--all of the information that does not/cannot make it into poems can be stated plainly in nonfiction, and can be done so in beautiful language.

Check out Portland Review! It is a literary journal from Portland State University here in Oregon and it has been publishing since 1956!