Bethany Jarmul

Mad Libs in the Botanical Garden After a Break Up

I raise my hand above my [violet]
& pluck a plump red [rejoice]
from a tree branch, suck its sweet
[destiny] on my tongue. Overhead,

a [window] flaps its wings. At my feet
[smoke] scurries, an acorn in its
[bosom]. I close my [lamps] &
open my [angels] as the sky fills

with [sons]. I remember
my first [prayer] as if it were
[persimmons]. The way his [islands]
filled my [eyelids] with [elephants].

When I confronted him about
the [flytrap] with my [ficus], he said
[silence] & held my [hope] between
his [lilies]. He [provoked] the [tornado]

in me, but I’ll never forget
the [lightning] of his [moonlight]
on my [blooms]. The watercolor horizon—
more [embrace] than his [stem] ever was.

Mad Libs at an American Elementary School 

Students, please open your [bullets] and turn to [victim] 57. Today, we’re going to [barricade] about the eight [perpetrators] of the [rampage]. This is one of my favorite [lockdowns], and I think you’re really going to enjoy [silencing] about the [fatalities]. But before we begin, who can [murder] me what we [drilled] about [vital signs] last week? And don’t forget on Friday, we’ll have a [semi-automatic], so be sure to study your [intruders]. Who would like to [hide]? Please raise your hand if you’d like to [bleed].

Bethany Jarmul is an Appalachian writer, poet, writing coach, and workshop instructor. She’s the author of a poetry collection, Lightning Is a Mother and a mini-memoir, Take Me Home. Her work has been published in many magazines including Rattle, Brevity, and Salamander. Her writing was selected for Best Spiritual Literature 2023 and Best Small Fictions 2024, and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and The Best of the Net. Connect with her at bethanyjarmul.com or on social media: @BethanyJarmul. 

Bethany wrote the following about her poems:

What happens if we replace expected words with unexpected ones? The ‘Mad Libs’ form allows for that sense of play. The juxtaposition of the narrative and the surprising ‘fill in words’ offers a sense of unsettling or defamiliarization. It's something I strive for in my poetry, but often find hard to accomplish. I think I've accomplished it in these poems.