M.K. Foster
September Requiem: In Which Sköll Swallows the Sun

M.K. Foster - September Requiem: In Which Sköll Swallows the Sun

Poetry
M.K. Foster’s poetry won the 2013 Gulf Coast Poetry Prize, has been recognized with an Academy of American Poets Prize,… Read more »
Virginia Konchan
Christina’s Field

Virginia Konchan - Christina’s Field

Poetry
Virginia Konchan is the author of Vox Populi (Finishing Line Press) and the short story collection Anatomical Gift (forthcoming, Noctuary… Read more »
Douglas Smith and Jen Town
Composed in the Form of Falling

Douglas Smith and Jen Town - Composed in the Form of Falling

Poetry
Douglas Smith was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico. His first book is Judgments. His work can be read in… Read more »
Jill McDonough
Enchantment

Jill McDonough - Enchantment

Poetry
Jill McDonough’s books of poems include Habeas Corpus (Salt, 2008), and Where You Live (Salt, 2012). The recipient of three… Read more »
Karen Skolfield
End of Evolution

Karen Skolfield - End of Evolution

Poetry
Karen Skolfield’s book Frost in the Low Areas won the 2014 PEN New England Award in poetry and the First… Read more »
Matt Broaddus
Home

Matt Broaddus - Home

Poetry
Matt Broaddus is currently a first year PhD student in English at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.… Read more »
David Hornibrook
Theology

David Hornibrook - Theology

Poetry
David Hornibrook is the recipient of a Pushcart Prize and the Michael R. Gutterman award from the University of Michigan.… Read more »
David Wagoner
Used Doors and Windows For Sale

David Wagoner - Used Doors and Windows For Sale

Poetry
David Wagoner has published 20 books of poems, most recently, After the Point of No Return (Copper Canyon Press, 2012).… Read more »

Home

Matt Broaddus

I go into the mist tonight. Another black man is dead. My country is authorized. I am allowed to be angry in the mist. To get to my mist I cross the signs repeating in the important languages, You are leaving the American zone. It is important to know what I have given up by crossing into myself. In the mist it’s misty, but I can see. Okigbo is there with the goddess. So’s a knight in full armor charging thin air. There are silences where screams should be. I wanted to come here to consider the origin of heaven and earth. But today a man is dead. Today is every day of my life. No one taught me to be angry. Okigbo immerses himself in the river that is his goddess. The knight rides aimless, thrusting a lance into darkness. Riot police show up and throw tear gas. Hey, this is my mist, I say, and they fire.

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