Jodie Hollander’s ‘The Ouija Board’
Jodie Hollander describes the imprisonment of fame, in a poem from LARB Quarterly no. 47, ‘Security.’
By Jodie HollanderJanuary 2, 2026
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This poem is a preview of the LARB Quarterly, no. 47: Security. Become a member for more fiction, essays, criticism, poetry, and art from this issue—plus the next four issues of the Quarterly in print.
¤
The Ouija Board
—After Birthday Letters
In the darkness of summer,
you consulted it together.
What would it say today?
Never anything positive: often
warnings in cryptic phrases
or single words—rotten, word bone:
a peek into the underworld,
a glimpse at forces in the heavens.
But the day you asked
about fame, her face darkened,
her voice rumbled,
speaking from underground.
Don’t you see, fame will ruin everything?
Her body contorted and raged,
nothing could calm her that day;
never again would you consult
the board. Still, you imagined
the two of you bound for success:
wasn’t that what she wanted;
why was she acting so strange?
The Ouija was just entertainment,
like the séances, witch doctors,
and horoscopes, wasn’t it?
Now that you’re both prisoners,
shredded by the press, scraps
scattered to the world, you hear
her mad laughter—wasn’t it! wasn’t it!
wasn’t it!—each night, from her grave.
¤
Featured image: George Inness, Moonrise, 1891. Edward B. Butler Collection, Art Institute Chicago (1911.39). CC0, artic.edu. Accessed December 29, 2025. Image has been cropped.
LARB Contributor
Jodie Hollander’s work has appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, The Poetry Review, Poetry magazine, The Yale Review, Harvard Review, and elsewhere. She has published two collections: My Dark Horses (2017) and Nocturne (2023), both with Liverpool and Oxford university presses.
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