Eggy
by Isabelle Hoida
hospital egg shell gown barely parts for half pinky fingertip to shovel
consciousness up and spiraling into thalamus like a
curly albumen ascending a command tower. “let’s remove this IV–”
gushing yolk. eye viscera slicks over pupil. and Dad doesn’t
recognize me. his gown makes him a child, scrambled brain,
and his smile droops, gummy. his wakeless death ends with a curse
tinctured with glaze: “what the fuck?” followed by laughter. white egg shell
howls, crunchy and tickled. i lift my eyebrow and wipe my
duct residue. he’s alive. his retinas are hazed green, the
color of collards in a dimly lit kitchen, where siblings sit
in silence around a table. waiting to eat breakfast.
Isabelle Hoida is a student at the University of Wisconsin - Superior, majoring in Writing and English. When she's not tapping away on her computer, you can find her collaging, hiking, dancing, or reading palms. She looks up to Chilly Gonzales and Stefani Germanotta for artistic inspiration.
Getting Yolky With It: A Q&A with Poet Isabelle Hoida On Writing For Ourselves
Grace Schutte: What do you do for a living? How do you find time to write?
Isabelle Hoida: Currently, I am a student at the University of Wisconsin - Superior and a writing consultant for other peers at the school. I find time to write typically before bed or early in my day when I’m not busy with my classwork or tutoring sessions.
GS: What do you find compelling about the Upper Midwest/the Midwest in general and why do you write about it?
IH: The Midwest is an area of quietly productive folks who celebrate the land and its indigenous tribes. We are kind people who always have constructive advice to give and a hand to lend. I write about my homeland, Wisconsin, because I feel this land is a part of me, from the icy winter shoveling, to the dancing at the polkas, to the crazy Packer games, to the spirit of endurance we exude in our communities.
GS: What led you to write “eggy”?
IH: “Eggy” was a personal revelation of mine I had when watching my father wake up from unconsciousness. This poem is an in-between state, something yolky, like the connective tissue of the father-daughter body; it speaks to concepts of consciousness, connectedness, and childhood experiences I had with my siblings.
GS: Have you been published in Barstow & Grand before? What has been your experience with our publication?
IH: I haven’t been published in B&G before—I was excited for “eggy” to be my first poem accepted by the publication. The Chippewa Valley, namely Eau Claire, I have visited many times and know several others in the area. My university initially connected me with B&G and raised the word about the submission process, what the publication is about, etc.
GS: What advice do you have to people looking to submit for this next issue?
IH: Speak your truth and don’t be afraid to push boundaries! Get a good idea of what B&G has published previously, but never try to write for another person. Write for yourself! Push yourself to submit, even if you’re hesitant.