I’m not entirely sure how I came across these fascinating erasure poems by Lisa Huffaker. Chalk it up to lit journal surfing.
I find erasure poems irresistible. Like gawking at a car crash as I drive by. What I find most interesting about this set of erasures is the coiling way the words are constructed. The instructions that function as an incredibly punk-rock form of punctuation seem both esoteric and bossy at the same time.
Though they have a tiredness, a resignation, a sadness.
The content is visceral, sexual, irreverent. Each poem asks those big (dirty word: existential) questions, but then gives dime-store answers like your babysitter who knows so much better.
“o sticky selfish infancy / o jellyfish / o sucking peach”
Flipping Fascinating Womanhood on its face in the mud, these are the sounds of unfettered femininity. Sticky, selfish, sucking.
In 2022, in a mood, I decided I wanted to come up with a way to describe female arousal that was not in reference to male arousal (i.e., not “lady-boner”). So I got to work and settled on “jellyfish-ing.” It became my party trick definition, and I mostly got positive feedback. Some months later, while digging through bins and racks at Topanga Hidden Treasures, I came across the most magical and iridescent jellyfish hat. So I was a jellyfish for Halloween.
The jellyfish and the woman: sticky, selfish, and sucking.
“o rosebud / o soft inviolate maw / o bald undeniable voice / crying at the top of the world”
The bubbles around each word are little eggs birthing newness into the darkened pages. The depth of shading creates a rabbit hole while still exposing the words underneath. A testament to Lisa Huffaker’s desire that her work be a dialogue with the original text, which she encountered and endured throughout her life.
O jellyfish.
Elaina Girlfriend 
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