Head off & Split

I first interpreted the title of this collection as “head off” in terms of heading on one’s way, and “split” in terms of leaving an area or establishment. The fish wrapped in newsprint on the cover of my edition made me realize a different, maybe more obvious, way to interpret this title, but I was still curious. Was this collection about fishing? Cooking? Preparing meat? No, well maybe, but no. There is just so much to look at in this whole collection, I feel like I should do a close reading on each individual poem, but I keep getting stuck on little ideas.

I really struggled with some of the (very recent) historical specificity of Finney’s poetry, especially poems like “THE CONDOLEEZZA SUITE” where I had to do a bit of googling to orient myself. I was still pretty young when Bush Jr. was president, so although I immediately understood references to hurricane Katrina, I am not as familiar with Bush’s presidency. It’s interesting to me, when reading a collection like this, or anything we’ve read so far this semester really, seeing what references I get immediately and what I need to work a little extra to understand. For example, one of my classes last semester had a big focus on the Partition, so going into Fatimah Asghar’s work, I immediately understood that. It’s always good to feel like a context is understood, but I also think there’s something really valuable in being like, oh hey, I totally have to google what this year was, or who this person was.

I had to do a lot of dot connecting with this book, and had to reread quite a bit. For example, with “My Time Up with You” I understood that a storm is coming and a woman is refusing to leave her home despite an evacuation in effect. However, it wasn’t until my second read that i understood what she was saying when she said “You say Rita coming? Well, she just gonna have to come on” (17). Who’s Rita? “Come on Rita girl. Come on gal, get yourself on Mayree’s list”. My head totally exploded when I googled “Hurricane Rita” and put two and two together. Now in retrospect, it seems kind of obvious. But I think that points to Finney’s subtlety and ability. I think it’s amazing when writers can layer a piece with meaning without hitting the reader over the head with it, and when a writer can reference a very specific moment or event without calling it “Poem about Hurricane Rita”. I think it shows that Finney trusts her audience to be curious and sharp, to not read too passively.

“Left” really stuck with me. In the poem, a narrative of three black people trapped on a New Orleans roof post-Katrina runs alongside little interjections of “Eenee Menee Mainee Mo”. The children’s rhyme type words feeling menacing when dropped in alongside the suffering of these people “left for dead” on top of their homes, on top of their flooded city (13). The three on the roof, A mother, child, and grandmother, watch as “rescue” helicopters observe them, diving and circling. They are watched but never “chosen” for rescuing. The speaker reminds the reader that other situations, other natural disasters, like massive fires in San Diego, get handled very promptly and efficiently, while the inhabitants of “po’ New Orleans” are only watches from behind cameras. The eerie children’s rhyme ends with a “My mother said to pick / The very best one / And you are not  it” (16). I also just realized that when the speaker says “Eenee Menee Mainee Mo! / Catch a - a -” it could possibly be a reference to how the old versions of this rhyme are said to have used the n word instead of “tiger”, which adds a completely new layer of horror to the “innocent” childrens rhyme. In referencing this and in drawing this very clear line to U.S. slavery, this work positions the treatment of Black residents of New Orleans even more clearly as an issue of racism. centuries black folks have been observed but not protected.