January 1
For 26 years I was left
to my own devices—
a peach pit
in the municipal landfill.
When we walked home
together, the silent
auction that takes place
between single people
at the bar was still taking
place. I remember an owl
flew overhead left to right
like a pinch of salt over
the shoulder. Dear reader,
I want you to know that
I have come to terms with
the fact that everything I tell
myself might very well already be
half a truth ago.
| Hajara Quinn |
|
levelheaded: January 1
For many, January 1 marks a time of reflection. Hajara Quinn’s poem begins with a speaker considering her past: “For 26 years I was left / to my own devices— // a peach pit / in the municipal landfill.” The careful line breaks and precise diction of these first two stanzas add layers of complexity and are representative of poetic techniques on display in the poem as a whole.
By ending line one on “left,” Quinn highlights the speaker’s abandonment. The next line completes the phrase before it while also establishing the poem as an address to the speaker herself, that is, to her ways of being, “to [her] own devices.”
Describing herself as “a peach pit,” the speaker is at once an unmistakable physical object and, considering the word “pit,” the idea of emptiness. That emptiness echoes the absence felt by someone who “was left.” A peach pit, vivid in its own right, is also a reminder of the fruit no longer clinging to it. The word “landfill” a line later works similarly. It’s an emptiness and a heap. It’s nature, and it’s garbage. Memories might fit these descriptions too.
In stanza three, Quinn brings attention to “the silent” of togetherness with smart syntax and another deliberate line break. Two lines later, the phrase “between single people” emphasizes the challenge of connecting with others given the divides that makes each of us singular. Next line, Quinn introduces the idea that the physical space and that the process of coupling up was “taking” something from its patrons (time, innocence, joy, the self?). Then, line 11 suggests finding a partner could make one who was “left” feel “right.” Just as quickly, things can be “over.”
The speaker’s desire for a connection is highlighted further in line 13, when the “Dear reader,” becomes the shoulder to lean on, cry on, rub up against. Most of all, the reader is someone to confide in. The speaker’s statement that “everything I tell // myself might very well already be / half a truth ago” is also made more mysterious because of Quinn’s craft. While the statement seems direct, the word “might” introduces doubt. Perhaps the speaker is “very well” despite the pain she seems to share.
– The Editors
