When There Was Light, a second collection of poetry from alumna Carlie Hoffman ’16, is out now from Four Way Books.
In this sophomore collection, Hoffman aims to face the past unflinchingly. She writes, in a poem titled, “While Waitressing at the Kosher Restaurant a Man Calls Me a Whore and a Woman Rushes Behind Me into the Kitchen to Hand Me Her Baby”:
Every season is good for killing girls,
the seaweed-black night foaming
with stars—
a plaque of women’s names.
Before Mary’s a whore,
a baby is placed in the frozen bird
of her lap, the dignity in being.
Every place that hurts you
is the season where the sun bursts
like salmon on fire. Think
of Eve shivering naked beneath the alder
watching God get angry—
is it anger or is it grief—all of us doing
what we’ve been trained to do.