Poem of the Week: 4.18.24

"Random Memories of Anna Novaes (CAP Snippet Poem)"

RANDOM MEMORIES OF ANNA NOVAES (CAP SNIPPET POEM)

by Anna C. Novaes de Oliveira

My first plane trip was as smooth as a song.
I think of "Lion King" with wishes for decay.
As I bite viciously, you turn and toss.
I look upon sharks with eyes filled with hate.
High school was a chance for my big break.
My dream house rests on the waves of an open sea.
Price is always heard, rarely seen.
Songs pierce my ears as a harmonious poem.
How hot dogs and bologna are made is beyond me.
Dancing till dawn is great—in a fun place.
Cancer brings on grief in great ships.
The fad of saddle shoes came on like an angry sea.
When he died, I screamed and cried, far from womanly.
Catching frogs with my grandma drove away sadness.

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A feature close to my heart, literally: my sister!

Writing runs in the N. d. O. family. My big sis played the role of tastemaker for me as I grew up: I inherited her iTunes music library, read books from her shelf, and shared movies and shows and art in general. So it’s fun to see her early writing is not too far off from a lot of mine, too.

“Random Memories of Anna Novaes” (a poem PUBLISHED in a PHYSICAL book that I can HOLD!!!) is a glimpse into a life between: between places (“plane trip”), realities (“My dream house”), and the various emotions in the ebb and flow of vitality and “decay.” The form of the poem, a 14-line sonnet, introduces this juxtaposition in the first two lines—memories of youth that are seemingly innocuous but tinged with the pain yet to come. The middle of the poem tries to stay in the lush dream of youth, but there’s a switch: “Dancing till dawn is great—in a fun place.” The clarification of “fun” offers a sharp caesura between the carefree and the consequences—as if there’s an equally strong darker memory from a place that isn’t fun. In comes anger and sickness and death and loss right before the end, but the last line revives the perspective of youth. Contact, family, and lil ribbity dudes are powerful enough to combat—not defeat, but keep at bay—life’s “sadness.” Life goes on even when it is between; an end doesn’t need to be.

Shout out my sister, as wise as she was back then as she still is now. Here’s a little blurb about the CAP program she was a part of, written by THE MAGGIE NELSON ARE YOU F’ING KIDDING ME!?!? It gives good context to how poetry that seems like “random memories” actually is borne from a lot of intention.

Hope your April is going swell.

Brotherly, Ricky