Juvenilia

Erin Adair-Hodges

I am a child in the lunchroomwhich is the sometimes gymsinging my known truths: I love milkto which Tanya says If you love it somuch why don’t you marry it?And that’s a fair point, Tanya.Why don’t I marry this milk, whydon’t I plan an elaborate ceremony,choose colors, invite milk’s familyand milk’s college friends to stay near,but not with, us? Why don’t I startpicking the poems now to be readas we wed somewhere necessarilyrefrigerated? Just like a childto think it’s so easy—that loveis a one-way act or a matterof decision. We can’t lovewhat we love into lovingus. Tanya, if I couldwhy would I waste my timewith milk, or with you, youwhom I decidedly do not love?I’d be out charmingmy indifferent grandmothersinto expressions of genuine affectionand jewelry. I’d be deepeninga correspondence with televisionand movie star Michael J. Foxwho I imagine chastely kissingwith my full and future lips,making the soundsI’ve seen on the screen.Tanya, this is the smallest tortureyou’ll think up for me, perfecteduntil junior high starts and Iam in honors classes and youare not—forgive me this, my ownsmall wounding, but I amstoring these cruelties inside melike a library dedicatedto one kind of war. I am becominga woman who’ll do almost anythingto be wanted. Why don’t I marrythe milk, Tanya? Ask the milkwhat there is in me to love.

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Erin Adair-Hodges is the author of Let’s All Die Happy, winner of the Agnes Lynch Starrett Poetry Prize. Recipient of the Allen Tate Prize and the Loraine Williams Poetry Prize, her work has been featured in American Poetry Review, Gulf Coast, Kenyon Review, PBS NewsHour, Ploughshares, Sewanee Review, and more. Born and raised in New Mexico, she now lives with her family in Kansas City, Missouri, and works as a fiction acquisitions editor.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

"Cast often through fairytale and myth, Erin Adair-Hodges’s new collection audaciously examines a contemporary experience of womanhood. Every Form of Ruin is a scalpel, exposing various forms of gendered violence, the vicissitudes and joys of wifedom and motherhood (‘momming’ as the poet brilliantly neologizes), and the power of sisterhood and of claiming the self in all its multitudes. There is so much in the craft of these poems equally to admire and revel in, including Adair-Hodges’s seemingly effortlessly inventive turns of image, line, and phrase. Her tone and the voice of these poems is also a wonder, at once irreverent, funny, biting, and downright sad. While the poems square themselves against ruin, they are actually resplendent, coming to us as they do, from ‘a country in which the poet is the only citizen so, also, its queen.’"
—Shara McCallum, author of Madwoman and No Ruined Stone

"If you’ve ever been crammed into a box with a word like ‘woman’ or ‘girl’ or ‘mother’ or ‘bossy’ or ‘bitch’ scribbled on the side, these poems are for you. If you’ve fought yourself exhausted and then gotten up to fight some more, this book is for you. If you love Clytemnestra’s courage and would have defended Iphigenia to the death too, if you know how Cassandra has been talked over and over or have called upon the Erinyes in your hour of need, these are the poems you’ve been waiting for. And if you don’t know any of these legends yet, but want good company in your rage, Every Form of Ruin will thrill and console and inspire."
—Kathryn Nuernberger, author of RUE and The Witch of Eye

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