Episode #058 Stammer - Cynthia Cruz

A day late but it's here! Connor and Jack explore the haunting poem, “Stammer,” by Cynthia Cruz. They delight in the incredible sounds of the poem, think about what makes this poem difficult, and consider how this poem shows one way of engaging with the traumatic or inexpressible. Read the poem below.

 More on Cynthia Cruz, here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/cynthia-cruz Check out the Washington Square Review here: http://www.washingtonsquarereview.com/latest-issue 
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 You can always send us an e-mail with thoughts on this or any of our previous podcasts, as well as suggestions for future shows, at [email protected]. Stammer By: Cynthia Cruz There is the story my mother used to tell. How she woke at three A.M. from a dream that her mother died. And she did. At three A.M. It’s like that: visceral and animal. The silver grammar of vanish. A soft violence pushing up against me— soundless, its static, satelliting music. Even now, it is there on the edge, on the periphery. When I stand in the light before the mirror it is overpowering. And always, without end.

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