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.
