John Perham
John Perham was born in South Vietnam. He holds degrees from the University of California, Riverside, and Cal State San Bernardino. He currently teaches at Mt. San Jacinto College. His collection of poems features an array of approaches to the political turmoil that followed the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States.
"Witness Turned Suspect" is a sonnet that observes the volatile political, social, and economic forces that converged on 1/6/2021. To articulate some of the confusion during this time of the pandemic, the structure of the poem itself is fragmented with a mix of bold letters and broken syntax. Look for "hope in the water" on the left and "water in the hope" spelled out in the bold letters which bring an added dimension to the content of the poem.
Witness Turned Suspect
tHere was a black president in the White
hOuse for 8 years and then afterwArds
People feared that there would be the firsT
fEmale president the pEndulum
swIngs in the opposite diRection
aNd there are 4 years of Intolerance
bigoTry racism in the opeN
tHe coup klux klan without the whiTe sheets
thEn a white mob overtakes capitol Hill
Worried that the president elEct
hAd served with the black president tHese
rioTers break through doors smash windOws
protEst the first female vice President
heR black and east Asian heritagE
"An inflection point" is a deconstructed sonnet that works with/against a parasite poem on the left. This tug and pull tension serves to articulate some of the tensions people go through during the pandemic.
an inflection point
tinkerbell has no sense of smell though
the weed that you meet she twitches her nose she has no voice
though people hear her jangled windchimes when
ever she’s near the mermaids sit on rocks
and pluck most likely will grow combing their long locks with fish bones
and wear sea shells to cover their breasts
there goes tigerlily bound and gagged
a prisoner on a boat she does not
put up a fight tied tight with ropes chained
back the flower at to an anchor the mermaids don’t care
tinkerbell is in love and jealous
in a zealous way trapped as she is
in a lantern tigerlilly will
see the bottom of the
e
a
your feet that you pick
will never return
"The Court of History" is a deconstructed sonnet that is paired with a poem. The two competing structures vie for the reader's attention so that there are three interpretations: each poem can be read singly or as one text. This deconstruction of form articulates the fragmented nature of relationships between people who are seemingly intimate yet separated by issues made worse during the time of a pandemic.
The court of history
You present half of a bridge then invite
Me to cross yes meet you half way I
Neither laugh nor sigh remain firmly
Where I stand not amused I write these
Contemporaneous notes in case
I am subpoenaed and must testify
There’s no difference your offer of a boat without sail
Between a good or bad or paddles does not rattle me I
Am well acquainted with your sense of
Generosity and sincerity
Book of poetry you have after all the history
Once the lights are out of throwing me a lifesaver when
The pages all feel the same I faced drowning and called out for help
The pages all look the same yes you have thrown me a lifesaver
A week a year after the fact at
Your convenience
With "We are Strangers," the goal is to present a poem that highlights the pervasive fear associated with catching the virus and getting a vaccine in time. The deconstructed sonnet paired with another poem also fragmented contributes to the psychological state of the speaker--will he get the vaccine? He gets the vaccine only to feel selfish since he was only thinking of himself and not his mother. "We are Strangers" argues that state/federal governments treating people as statistics which parallels the isolation people feel within their relationships only makes worse the fear and isolation people suffer during a pandemic.
We are Strangers
Through my employer an email that
Provides a phone number to call in
The risk of Order to register for one out
Of 100 possible vaccines
First come first served I hesitate for
A second is it even worth trying
I call no one answers I call no
Bridge collapse One answers so I listen to the
Recorded message and leave my name
And phone number I do not get a
Will never Return call until the next day giving
Me a date and time I am happy
Be zero Until I realise my mother
Needs a vaccine as well how selfish
M I
"A January Exception" is a sonnet paired with another poem. The speaker details getting the first of two vaccines; those who receive the Moderna vaccine, for example, know too well that full protection does not happen until the second dose. This poem was written during a time when it was very difficult to get even the first vaccine--websites crashed; age limitations; indeed, it was a stressful time when only certain people were able to get vaccinated. The speaker of "A January Exception" has received his first vaccine but then worries if the second dose will even be possible. Here the multiple and fragmented structures of the poems articulate the confusion and fears of a person going through the pandemic.
A January Exception
I barely felt the needle going
In after the nurse told me I’d feel
Someone who blinks A little pressure the alcohol swab
Leaving my skin cold I did feel it
When the needle left my arm throughout
The rest of the day I expected
Too much causes To feel an ache in my arm but there
Was no pain until late at night when
Me to blink too I awoke to a dull yet intense
u Pain and a sniffling nose I was told
c That discomfort was a good sign the
h Vaccine was working but now I worry
Whether I will get my next appointment
For the all important second dose
In time