Single Poem Review: “Homework” by Cheryl Pappas
The poem “Homework” by Cheryl Pappas arrives at exactly the right time. I’ve been thinking about the end of my life lately, being an age where the end is easier to imagine than to remember my beginnings. I don’t see a light at the end of this particular tunnel quite yet but Pappas does make a reader consider what may be awaiting them as she herself questions and attempts to finish this existential assignment.
The poem, much like the title implies, takes the form of a multiple choice quiz and each option attempts to answer the question “What is the end of your life?” It’s an exam the reader and writer cannot fail, cannot answer with any certainty, and cannot avoid.
This quiz, this call and response, this list, works best when Pappas lets the specificity of an image tantalize (to borrow an absolutely delicious word from the poem itself) the reader. An image like “a tower of alphabet blocks tumbling onto the carpet, again and again” evokes childhood or parenthood, and since we are talking about the end of our lives, perhaps even loss of language itself, a terrifying prospect for those of us in love with words. It’s a cinematic image that conjures chaos as well as playfulness, joy as well as sorrow. Next we read about a “fox on the side of the road” (reminiscent of a particularly powerful scene from the show “Fleabag”) after a long night of drinking and the image is strange and lovely, compelling enough not to need more explanation. Both images lack a certain amount of detail (are they wood blocks? What color? What kind of carpet? What did the speaker drink and why?) but they are unique enough to delight on their own.
Other images such as “a lost lover” or “a door closing slowly” don’t quite have the same impact, even when paired with a line that is a bit more image-driven. The door reminds me of Louise Glűck’s opening line from “The Wild Iris” (“At the end of my suffering / there was a door”) but “end of my suffering” makes a more powerful phrase to pair with than “the end of your life.” Pappas could have made it a door to a school, an ornate door to a ruined mansion, a plain door in a plain house in an ordinary life.
The door itself, while closing slowly, could have revealed so much more.
But balancing the universal with the specific is a difficult task. Ending a poem that attempts to tackle an impossible question is even more difficult. Pappas’ poem may have its flaws but she accomplishes something wonderful at the end and uses just the right imagery: leaves, lines, light passing through. The poet reminds us that maybe we don’t know what the end is but if it’s something as lovely as those last two lines in “Homework,” well, I think I could live with that.
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Cheryl Pappas is the author of the flash fiction collection “The Clarity of Hunger,” published by word west press (2021). Her work has appeared in Swamp Pink (formerly Crazyhorse), Wigleaf, The Chattahoochee Review, Okay Donkey, and elsewhere. She is a 2023 MacDowell Fellow. She is currently at work on a novel, which is a contemporary retelling of Hansel and Gretel.
Currently Reading:
“Paris Stories” by Mavis Gallant (“I eat her sentences up!” - Cheryl Pappas)
For More About the Author:
Instagram/Threads: @fabulistpappas
Bluesky: @cherylpappas.bsky.social
