This year's Calliope magazine features Brandy Leigh Hoover's poem "God at the Fruit Stand." I was part of the poetry staff and got to evaluate this poem before it was published, and I considered it exceptional from start to finish.
"Every time I spend a dollar I cross
off your name. It offends me to see it, like faith
is something we can trade for California oranges
on a hot highway shoulder."
The first line break severs the phrase "cross off" so the reader ends on the word "cross," which can also mean the symbol of Christianity. The second line connects the two words and the reader goes from a symbol of Christianity to removing something, in this case the name of god.
The second line ends on "like faith" and without the rest of the clause, it connects faith to being offended. It reads: "...it offends me to see it, like faith." This sets another tone about hostility toward religion.
The description of trading California oranges on a hot highway shoulder gives a powerful visual. My boyfriend Bryan and I went to Disney World in Florida this Christmas/New Years, and we bought the most delicious hot dogs and fries on the planet at a little shop off the side of the road. This image reminds me of the sun searing my shoulders and brings me into the poem.
"When I was nine, Sister Sandra cut
an apple in half and said that your story was there
in a circle of seeds. I almost believed her - except
fragile flesh, rigid core, small round infants deep inside,
and a skin speckled brown with the sun.
An apple is the fruit of a mother."
Hoover describes an apple and its seeds but she separates it from the prior stanza. Therefore, the description seems to stand on its own and when I read it, I associate the imagery with a pregnant woman: flesh, small round infants, and skin speckled brown can all describe a human as well as an apple. Hoover affirms this with the third line, connecting an apple to a mother. Hoover doesn't believe Sister Sandra's explanation of god creating life like the seeds in an apple because "an apple is the fruit of a mother." Hoover might not have considered many goddesses or dual deities many religions worship.
"You can burn a bush or part a sea, but you can never know
how it feels to grow a universe, to feel him curled
asleep in your middle, pressing your hand from inside, to weep
and curse and part like the sea to bear him"
This stanza makes two references to the Bible: the burning bush and Moses parting the sea. Hoover connects the latter with delivering a baby in the fourth line. I also consider this stanza the poem's center because it is the only one with an extra line. The second line compares the creation of a universe to the birth of baby: "...to grow a universe." In the fourth line, Hoover criticizes the Christian god for having never suffered to create life.
The third line presents an image where I find a deeper meaning. A baby presses the mother's hand from inside, which is feedback. Most people never receive direct feedback from God, and those who claim to hear voices actually suffer from psychological disturbances.
"How can I trust you with eternity when you've never
felt agony in creation, never risked
your existence for the sake of bringing forth?"
Hoover questions why she could trust god with everything when he hasn't suffered the same way as other mother's do. In her mind, god has never risked his life - his "existence" - to create new life.
"How can I do anything but cross you off
every time I spend a dollar
and buy a roadside orange?"
The last stanza brings the end back up to the beginning, providing closure. I like this poem's themes and how it uses line breaks and imagery to describe such an abstract concept.
--Jessica Murphy
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
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