Ode to Goodwill by Victoria Hudson
Associate poetry editor Hannah Cajandig-Taylor on today’s bonus poem. There's almost nothing I enjoy more than a solid Goodwill trip, except this surprisingly emotional poem about cataloguing, identifying, and reminiscing. Victoria Hudson's playful, yet powerful homage to thrift stores ponders what we leave behind and how materialism shapes nostalgia. Like so many of the objects listed, this piece is truly a treasure!
Ode to Goodwill
For the family photos from Disney World; for the tiny mushroom statue.
For Sexy Jesus. For the book whose cover is simply the bare torso
of a pretty ripped dude. For the first edition Alice in Wonderland
& the large white underwear, trimmed with lace.
For the wandering women, for their crinkly hair & crepey skin.
For the Nancy Drew scrawled with childish handwriting:
I like this book very much. For Becky, who’s seen some shit. For Sarah,
who’s seen more; for the gray at her temples, her careful smile.
For the men who buy costume jewelry to give to their mothers.
For unused baby books. The book with a note that says flowers pressed
inside but no flowers pressed inside. For Chloe, who dances while she talks.
The telegram from 1948: GLAD TO BE WITH YOU RUSHED LEAVING
WILL WRITE UPON RETURN; for the lights that stay
on all night. How small it looks from the street.
Victoria Hudson is an MFA candidate at the University of Arkansas. Her poems are published in jubilat and the Dunes Review, and she’s a poetry editor at the Arkansas International.
