The problem of deer is a lyrical exploration of the transitory landscapes that shape a diasporic experience. It traces the shifting cartographies of the heart, moving from the dissonances of history and geographical origins to the multiplicities of desire and language. These poems find beauty in their gentle yet persistent interrogations—through the voice of a young peripatetic.
The problem of deer will be published by Finishing Line Press in January 2025. Preorder here until November 15, 2025. Selected poems can be found at the Poetry Society of America, Poetry Northwest, Bellingham Review, among others.
Cover image: Nicole Storm, copyright of Creative Growth Art Center.
In Lydia T. Liu's The problem of deer, a colonial administration is both augured and commemorated as the "place that's also a problem." In a parallel register, the "almost closure of the mouth" does the work of a gate. What emerges, what slips through? Poems, testimonies, compressed thoughts, a dream in which national borders no longer exist, but also colors, pliable anthropologies of all kinds.
— Bhanu Kapil
This is a short book that contains thousands of books. It’s a template that holds meaning like a cave holds luggage or a hotel room turns into a cave. Language is unstable Liu tells us but you know it’s a pretty marvelous tool. The problem of deer is for sure a marvel maybe like the poems Marguerite Duras wrote while she was waiting for a film. Or even better like tiny seahorse toys spiraling in water you just watch those babies grow!
— Eileen Myles
Let Lydia Liu’s The problem of deer take you on a multisensory journey where you discover the loves and losses of a descendant of diaspora. Liu intricately interweaves poems containing Chinese, German, and Catalan on a canvas of English to paint treks of longing and desire, meaning and myth, being home and being a stranger in the realms of earth and sky. Sip these poems slowly for a protracted delight because “the world today is half ocean half construction site” and “There is still time/to chose elation.” Encounter poems whose waves of meaning ricochet, overlap, and haunt you. That ache of nostalgia remains after finishing The problem of deer, fortunately you can read it again to assuage the pain.
— Yeva Johnson, author of Analog Poet Blues