Poem of the Week: ‘Resuscitate’ by Jennifer E. Hudgens

We say it every week, but this competition was harder to call than ever before. After protracted discussion from the panel as each Vulture tried to sell their favourite to the top spot, we were able to pick a top two who we believe deserved the podium spots.

2rd Place
‘Cover Letters’ by Sara Adams


Dear Editor:

The poem chronicles a lovely moment

observed at Applebee’s on Mother’s Day.

I was sitting alone,

reading a biography of Maria Montessori,

and observed people

having a very different kind of Applebee’s experience.

Thank you for your consideration

of the following poem, entitled,

“Douchebag on a Double Date Flicks Own Nipple.”


Dear Editor:

I arrived to Applebee’s early

for a meeting

and two women,

presumably mother and daughter,

sat at the adjacent table.

And then a guy,

around the daughter’s age,

arrived, wearing pajamas and carrying

a two-liter of Pepsi that looked several days old.

His face was

extremely greasy,

as though he really had not showered in days.

His demeanor suggested that he had not been out of the house,

or in any kind of social situation, for even longer.

Perhaps he was running a fever.

Thank you for your consideration

of the following untitled poem:

If you don’t want me to die of grief, let me go.

Let me start with one green grape

and find myself eating the mango.


1st Place
‘Resuscitate (After Peter Gizzi)’ – Jennifer Hudgens

It’s good to be the Walking Dead in America,
the survivors-the living are the old Republicans that
refuse to learn to use the Internet or smartphones,
Siri is a goddess of misinformation, making the lonely
fall in love with the siren sounds of her voice, we are
all doomed to die from the disease, our mouths muted-
carpal tunnel crippling our thumbs, romance is dead
inside, just like our bodies, the sloppy sex of pornography
keeps our limbs wiggling, tongues salivating, we
tweet our eulogies in 140 characters or less, what happened
to smoke signals? It’s good to be the uninformed in America,
we rush to the E.R. after checking WebMD for symptoms
of Ebola-when we live in North West Oklahoma City, we’ve
been over exposed to Mary Fallin, Sally Kern, and legislation
telling us who we can love, what we can learn, and that our
winter wear is terrifying. It’s good to be white in America,
to not be accused of terrorism, to not have to worry about
being shot to death with hands up, or hands cuffed behind
backs, it is a post-racist America, that’s what all the privileged
white men say. It’s good to be culturally appropriating Katy Perry in
America, so many people feel like a plastic bag floating in the wind,
for so long we watched those plastic bags float in the wind, we
blamed Alan Ball for writing American Beauty, and the weird kid
with the video camera, Katy and her fireworks have invaded the
minds of youth, the same youth that dresses like a “Mexican” for
Halloween because it’s fucking “cute.” It’s good to be a puppet in
America, someone’s hands always fiddling around in our
back pockets-looking for our last couple of bucks, our last
sense of reality, picking the pockets of the poor, disenfranchised,
telling women they still have no say over their own bodies. It’s good
to have a cunt in America, to be told how to keep it clean,
how to force feed it politics, how to collapse it down in case of
emergency, to learn to keep the PH balanced in case of pregnancy,
in case of rape, in case we have to explain why we wore a red dress
that night, or jeans and a t-shirt, because having a cunt in America
means we asked for it, means we are open for business,
ready for poltergeists. It’s good to be green in America, to eat honey
in America, to let the bees die in America, it’s good to make
sure we’re dying in America, too drunk and stoned and over

sexualized in America, it’s good to be a rat in America, and it’s good

to eat our feelings in America, it’s good to pretend there is no them,

no there, no us. It’s good to be the Walking Dead in America.

Jennifer in her own words: Jennifer E. Hudgens, originally from Oklahoma City has been published in some stuff and is currently pursuing her Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing at the University of Central Oklahoma.
She thinks life is poetry if you’re paying attention. Jennifer watches the sky the way most people watch television. She is terrified of clowns, horses, and animatronic toys. She genuinely hopes you enjoy her poems.

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