From “The Stuff of Hollywood”
After ice cream. Somewhere off Clear Creek &
196. Makeshift sign. Uncle Sam
white as the lines on the flag in hand mouths
love it or leave it. You must admire
the gall of white men in carjacked country.
Nearby a brief pond. Its skin a stillness.
Then up. A bird of prey searches for its—
/
Goose. On a depthless pond. Deepest tunnel
of unbecoming. How does one undrown
from the incivility of this world?
In the distant. Chimes. A musical score.
A willow bends its back toward dirt &
some star will hang low on tomorrow’s walk
& the moon. Watch it refuse my hello—
Copyright © 2024 by Niki Herd. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on February 16, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.
“A bunch of us were in residency, in Wyoming, doing what artists do. My friend, Viet, who was familiar with the area, suggested we check out the neighboring town of Buffalo. While there, we visited a tiny sugar-filled candy shop and a lovely pottery store; and then, somewhere off the main drag, was this sign. Formally, the poem must work as a complete piece, and each stanza must work as its own individual poem. It’s what I call a broken sonnet.”
—Niki Herd
Niki Herd
Niki Herd is a poet, editor, and essayist. She is the author of The Stuff of Hollywood (Copper Canyon Press, 2024).