Something Small then Hole By Maggie Nelson

If you’ve ever read Maggie Nelson, you know she has a way of making the deeply personal feel universal. Her 2007 poetry collection, Something Bright, Then Holes, is no exception. It’s raw, intimate, and beautifully fragmented—like memory itself.

This book sits at the intersection of love, loss, and place. Nelson writes about a failing romantic relationship, the illness and death of a close friend, and the changing landscapes of New York City. But rather than being weighed down by grief, her words shimmer with honesty and sharp observation. The title says it all: life is full of bright moments, but it’s also full of gaps—holes of absence, longing, and uncertainty.

What makes Something Bright, Then Holes so compelling is its fluidity. Nelson moves effortlessly between the personal and the philosophical, the poetic and the everyday. Her lines can be quiet and devastating or full of humor and warmth. The way she writes about relationships, in particular, feels incredibly real—there’s no over-romanticizing, just the messy, beautiful truth of connection and distance.