American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin [“Probably twilight ...”]

Cyclical repetition is deeply important to this poetry collection, in which 70 poems share the same title, and each begins with the last line of the previous sonnet in the sequence. The sonnets form a body of work linked by title, by their shared lines, and by the fact that their first lines form yet more sonnets when read in the index—repetition that expands their meanings.

Within “Probably twilight…,” several words and phrases repeat verbatim: “probably” (Lines 1, 2, 9, 11, 12), “something happened” (Lines 4, 5, 6). Others recur with slight alterations: “all my encounters” (Line 2) becomes “all of our encounters” (Line 9), while “Probably twilight makes blackness dangerous / Darkness” (Lines 1-2) becomes “Probably twilight makes blackness / Darkness” (Lines 11-12). “Dark blue skin” repeats, along with “matches” in lines 12 through 14. It’s almost more noteworthy to examine the words that do not repeat or echo: “You won’t admit it” (Line 10).

Hayes uses forms and images related to return and repetition to underscore the theme of chronic violence and anxiety. The poem's shared title, "American Sonnet for My Past and Future Assassin," refers to an eternal loop that repeats in the “past” and “future.” The poem highlights the deadening repetition of racially-motivated violence like the repeated attacks on Black Americans listed by their geographic locations in lines 5 through 7. It also focuses on private questions of identity and legacy, as the father and son in lines 13 and 14 imply the way generational disappointment of ongoing racism in America. Hayes describes the fear underlying individual encounters in lines 2 and 9, connecting the local danger of interactions between strangers to the publicly dangerous confrontations with the state, all of which bring the speaker every closer to the unknown assassin.

Throughout the poem, images of shading, mixing, and blending obscure individuals and ideas. In this sonnet, an uncertain mood develops through the repetition of noncommittal language: “probably,” “something,” “can,” “almost.” Similarly, the twilight landscape represents an in-between, uncertain time of day, when shadows start to hinder sight. Another image of a confusing muddle is the “jambalaya” (Line 3) of the speaker's interactions, referring to a dish that mixes ingredients and cultures, creating a flavor that could not have existed without blurring boundaries. Later in the poem, the repletion of the vague and ominous euphemism “something happened” undercuts the specific places names in lines 5 through 7, casting a haze over events. “Someone is prey” in line 9, but everything remains obscured when the hunter cannot be identified. In the final lines, “dark blue skin” (Lines 12, 13) breaks down the boundaries between father and son, who might be camouflaged in a safe anonymity, but whose blending also blurs identity and makes their humanity more easily dismissed by an apathetic community. The poem’s half-light shows the reader the frustration of imprecision, misjudgment, and uncertainty experienced by a speaker who wonders where he will encounter the next person who would feasibly kill him.