I've a Poem/Win a Book

Okay, I finished a poem last week, the first one in forever. I’d post it here, but it still needs to go through the vetting process, like the background check on a potential Supreme Court candidate before a nomination so that the government can find out about all of his truly astonishing and semi-hilarious proclivities.

Don’t get me wrong, I think the poem’s pretty hot, probably the best poem in the English language since “Song of Myself,” only not really, not even close. Honestly, it’s probably as lame as most of the stuff that I've ever written.

Like I said, though, I’m not gonna post it here, at least not in its entirety. I thought that it’d be pretty cool if I just posted the last word of each line. I’m mediocre at most aspects of writing poetry, but I’m decent at line endings, or so I've convinced myself. Here it is:

Mystery Poem







Okay, now that you’ve gotten through that, and I’m sorry if it was a waste of your time, you can enter my new contest. Check it out: if you can tell me what the poem’s about, I’ll send you a signed copy of my book.

I know that that middle stanza sounds kind of dirty, what with "sweater," "lifts," and "breathlessness," but, trust me, it's completely innocent. You probably just have a sick mind, and there's plenty of other stuff on the internet to satisfy your twisted needs, pervert.

Click on “Contact Us” and send me an-e-mail with your best guess. At the end of September, the person who comes up with the best answer gets the book. I’ll even write whatever you want me to write above my signature, as long as it doesn’t land me in jail.

Good luck, America.

Perhaps a Hint Is in Order

Most of the guesses have been a bit on the abstract side (the poem is "about" this or that: love, death, etc.), but in this poem there is something taking place in the real world.


Is it your last google search keywords?

I'm Not That Geeky

While I am a bit of a nerd, I don't think that I'll ever write a poem about my Google searches. Sorry, no dice.

If, by the way, you use the Mystery Poem last words for one giant Google search, this is what you get. Weird.

Seriously, It's Not Dirty

Okay, I've had the first guess, from D.T.D.L.A., and he went blue, but not deep, deep blue, more like a sky blue. Listen, people, the poem is not about "boobs," and especially not about any specific person's "boobs."

Keep guessing. 

a response and a supplication

the poem is about love, in all its manifestations but more specifically about mythical love in the modern world.

Mr. de Luna I know I'm probably wrong, you see.
But I'm an English graduate student, you see.
Paying Bay Area rent, you see.
Studying the poetry of John Keats, you see.
more specifically, meter in Keats, you see.
So I don't have any money now, you see.
and probably won't ever have any money, you see
because nobody wants to know about the use of associative rhythm in Keats, you see.
But I would really like to own an autographed copy of Bent to the Earth, you see.
I've read your book thanks to my access to libraries, you see. But it would be nice if I could get an autographed copy so I can put it next to my signed copies of the Rodriguezes (Richard and Luis J., you see), you see.

Thank you,
Javier O. Huerta

You're in the Lead

Congrats, first of all, for the Chicano/Latino Literary Prize; I applied for that bad boy back in 1996-1997, when the late Andres Montoya, a great poet and my friend and classmate, won it; I, myself, finished in, like, a billionth place.

In my own little contest, sadly, you missed by a mile. Sadder still, it's the best guess so far, so you're currently in the lead for the free book.

Oh, and go post on Eduardo's blog; he's sounding a little jealous.


I already have a copy of your book. But let me give it shot. The end words make me think of a kiss-off poem. Are you letting a past lover have it in this poem?

Sort Of, But Not Really

Thanks for having already gotten a hold of my book; you're, like, one of about a dozen people. I've got so many copies myself that I sometimes find single books/little batches scattered about in places where I don't actually remember having left them behind.

In terms of your guess, you're barely on the right track. Keep guessing.