TRANSCRIPT

I’m Maggie Smith, and this is The Slowdown. 

I flew to San Francisco last October for a terrific literary festival called LitQuake. I had an event in support of The People’s Project, an anthology I coedited with my dear friend Saeed Jones. Three of our contributors were also there: Abi Maxwell, Jill Damatac, and Randall Mann. We each read from the anthology, and then we chatted and answered some audience questions. 

During our conversation on stage, we talked about craft — the decisions we make when we write, from line length to word choice. Poet Randall Mann said that he rarely wrote using prompts or on demand, which our anthology’s call for submissions — and the tight turnaround — required. Saeed and I are so lucky that Randall Mann said yes to us and embraced the challenge. At the festival, he mentioned that finding the poem’s form, its “container,” was what made his poem in The People’s Project possible.

I know that feeling well. Sometimes I flail about in a piece of writing, whether poetry or prose, until I find the right structure for it. Once I find the form, I’m off and running. 

This was true most recently in my craft book, Dear Writer. Once I decided to organize the book around my own ten principles of creativity, I had a rough outline, and moving forward with those ten sections of the book gave me purpose and direction. Finding the right form was also essential in my memoir, and in every essay or poem I’ve ever written. It’s an intuitive process, and for me it involves a lot of trial and error.

Today’s poem is a kind of mirror: the second half matches the first, in reverse. As I was reading The People’s Project submissions from contributors, I felt strongly that this poem should come last, closing the book. Perhaps, when you listen to the ending, you’ll sense why.

Puzzle
by Randall Mann

Something ends. Something else begins
in a knowable shadow
like a partner.
 
Honestly, I prefer silence.
A pollster spins: words matter—
what we say, fail to say—
 
more than enunciation.
The point is,
maybe nothing is pointless.
 
I have seen, in this puzzling time,
few acts of compassion.
If truth is lazy, like poetry,
 
let me state this clearly:
I’ve been numbed by what I have seen
in the distance, signs
 
in the distance, signs
I’ve been numbed by. What have I seen?
Let me state this: clearly,
 
if truth is lazy like poetry,
few act. Of compassion
I have seen, in this puzzling time,

maybe nothing is. Pointless?
The point is
more than renunciation.
 
What we say fails to say.
A pollster spins words, matter—
I prefer honesty. Silence
 
like a partner,
an unknowable shadow . . .
Something ends. Something else: begin.

“Puzzle” by Randall Mann from THE PEOPLE’S PROJECT curated by Saeed Jones and Maggie Smith. Copyright © 2025 Saeed Jones and Maggie Smith. Reprinted by permission of the poet and Washington Square Press/Atria Books, an Imprint of Simon & Schuster, LLC.