Poetry: Glitter Ode by Andrew Hemmert

“Glitter Ode” struts through a exuberant associative landscape, with glitter—marvelously annoying and excessive—as anchor, as compass. Hemmert’s poem has got us on our feet, wiggling, turning our hips and shoulders and feet, looking for the shine.


Glitter Ode


for dull days

I keep a vial of it

in my briefcase

when nothing seems

to hold the light

they can catch it

they can bring it back

little mirrors

little dressing rooms

where every outfit makes you

look like a fashion district

in a city of shimmer

and snap they are the craft

equivalent of accidentally falling

in step with the pop song

on the speakers

in a small-town mall

where the stores are shutting up

one by one

and probably for good

but you can live in that rhythm

it can take you

where you need to go

be honest

didn’t you always want

to be an unobstructed

night sky didn’t you always

want to be a river

full of thrown-away bottles

litter or otherwise

didn’t you always want to shine



Andrew Hemmert

Andrew Hemmert is a sixth-generation Floridian living in Kalamazoo, Michigan. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Cincinnati Review, The Greensboro Review, Hunger Mountain, North American Review, Poet Lore, Poetry Northwest, and Prairie Schooner. He earned his MFA from Southern Illinois University Carbondale, and currently serves as an assistant editor for Fifth Wednesday Journal.

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