by Lydia Chapman (‘26)
The book American Sonnets For My Past And Future Assassin—Terrance Hayes’s fifth poetry collection—embodies the true heart of America. In it, the poet tackles America’s deep-set, rich history that is often untold yet seeps into the surface of today.
American Sonnets For My Past And Future Assassin (Penguin Books, 2018)
Hayes speaks of both America and the sonnet as places to dwell. They are part “music box” and part “meat grinder” to “separate the song of the bird from the bone.” He frequently draws on such visuals with dichotomous connotations to represent an active, snappy, and pugnacious America. For instance: “I make you both gym & crow here. As the crow / You undergo a beautiful catharsis trapped one night / In the shadows of the gym.”
Elsewhere in the book, Hayes’s poems are more direct in explaining the chaotic and complex space that is America, often focusing on the unique relationship mainstream culture has with minorities. “Why are you bugging me you stank minuscule husk / Of musk” he writes, “Should I fail in my insecticide, I pray for a black boy . . . you funky stud, you are the jewel / In the knob of an elegant butt plug, snug between / Pleasure & disgust.” This unexpected metaphor captures so well America’s relationship with the media—a relationship that can be obscure, that separates people from what they really are. These seemingly contradictory feelings of admiration and aversion create a confusing tension for the artist. While art by minorities can receive much praise, the creators themselves do not always receive the same respect.
Throughout American Sonnets, Hayes remarks on the past pushing from underneath the veil and impressing on our present. “Drive like fifteen miles along a national parkway” he writes, “Where the confederate statues have been painted / White so often they will probably look like ghosts . . . Join the bottleneck at the mouth of the tunnel running / Beneath the fathoms of the river. You may recall a bomb / Was set off there some years ago . . .” Here, metaphor and message fuse; the physical description and its accompanying meaning feel so real. The past is masked so that the present and the future are not as haunted by it; yet, the past still lurks in the recesses of our minds.
The final poem in Hayes’s American Sonnets is about a flower called “Lorca’s Breath” that is said to grow petals just before dying. This flower has leaves that “ hang / As if listening to a lover whisper with her back / To you . . .” Hayes’s poetry elegantly suggests that maybe this tired flower is waiting for America to listen, whispering her sentiment with the meager breath she has left.
Lydia Chapman is majoring in social work at the University of Detroit Mercy. She enjoys basking in the sun, watching musicals, and peeking into the experiences of others through reading.
Between the Pages 
Leave a comment