"Lucid" by Hailey Stumpo
Dani Putney | The Yearning Hour
I know the story. Summer
of ’39, the Potomac sweating
something fierce. A boy born
to a chain-smoking father & home-
making mother. Fairfax County small,
quaint. Chickadees everywhere.
A whole life ahead, but what if
you were you? Twin brothers, abused;
another, queer [historical].
Frying pan against the boy’s skull.
13-year-old mama holding
her firstborn son. Boy going to white-
folk school, the class jokester, always
a cantrip in the wings. Tell me—
do ghosts sing? Across the Pacific,
a garrison. First love, or so the wren
says. Back home: twins tramping
through America, post-secondary
chemistry for the other. Escape
someplace, in something. Or in -one,
the shit-eating mirror of two faces,
stools kissing, a young man
& his comrade, full velvet. I think
I hear him. Yes, you know who.
Mixed children in Texas, blind
grandmother, dead grandfather.
From one Falls [Church] to the next
[Wichita], continents & oceans filling
the gap. Asking for Mom but a fissure
away. History burning as the sound
of gunfire. I hope he’s there,
with you. East of the river, a chickadee
cries.
The stalk is withered & dry,
sweetheart,
& the flower will never return.†
†The final three lines are taken from the English/Irish folk ballad “The Unquiet Grave.”
of ’39, the Potomac sweating
something fierce. A boy born
to a chain-smoking father & home-
making mother. Fairfax County small,
quaint. Chickadees everywhere.
A whole life ahead, but what if
you were you? Twin brothers, abused;
another, queer [historical].
Frying pan against the boy’s skull.
13-year-old mama holding
her firstborn son. Boy going to white-
folk school, the class jokester, always
a cantrip in the wings. Tell me—
do ghosts sing? Across the Pacific,
a garrison. First love, or so the wren
says. Back home: twins tramping
through America, post-secondary
chemistry for the other. Escape
someplace, in something. Or in -one,
the shit-eating mirror of two faces,
stools kissing, a young man
& his comrade, full velvet. I think
I hear him. Yes, you know who.
Mixed children in Texas, blind
grandmother, dead grandfather.
From one Falls [Church] to the next
[Wichita], continents & oceans filling
the gap. Asking for Mom but a fissure
away. History burning as the sound
of gunfire. I hope he’s there,
with you. East of the river, a chickadee
cries.
The stalk is withered & dry,
sweetheart,
& the flower will never return.†
†The final three lines are taken from the English/Irish folk ballad “The Unquiet Grave.”
Dani Putney is a queer, non-binary, mixed-race Filipinx, and neurodivergent writer originally from Sacramento, California. They’re the author of Mix-Mix (Baobab Press, 2025) and Salamat sa Intersectionality (Okay Donkey Press, 2021), finalist for the Lambda Literary Award in Transgender Poetry. They received their Ph.D. in English from Oklahoma State University.
Hailey Stumpo is a Dover-based fine artist currently pursuing a degree in studio art at Kutztown University of Pennsylvania. Her works have been acquired by private collectors in Florida, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Delaware, including renowned oil painter Dr. Sandra Corpora, by whom Stumpo has been mentored for three years. You can find Hailey on Instagram @indieannaartwork and on her website.
