AL YOUNG
Two Poems
Just tell me who the hell am I?
What powers did I, do I hold?
Just tell me who the hell am I?
What powers did I, do I hold?
I feel like a child, younger than this girl; I’m
telling about parents as if I still had them . . .
We are puppets, all parts of us
connected by strings, by loose wishes
Wind and darkness, like the cuckoo
Who returns from far off lands
I hear them singing a new song.
They hear each other sing . . .
Stealthily, Death
caged my sight from behind
We at Poetry Northwest – illuminating poetry and literary cultures since 1959 – are so excited to be expanding into an exciting new platform this August by offering virtual poetry classes and workshops to support, resource, develop, nourish, connect emerging and established writers and readers in the communities we serve. As a literary journal and platform, we believe we have the power to counter systemic disinvestment in literary publishing. These virtual programs prioritize accessibility — virtual, sliding scale – localisms, equitable pay, and giving opportunities to both students and instructors historically marginalized or foreclosed out of decision-making roles in our industry. Virtual Workshop – The Lyrical Erotic: Poetry of Pleasure, Sex, and Desire with Chekwube Danladi In this six-week generative workshop, we will gather virtually on zoom to access deeper connections to our pleasure archives through the act of poetry. As we define and contextualize our experiences of the erotic, this course invites an unlocking of the erotic through intentional activations of the senses. We will rely on somatic intelligence and body memory, our own rich intuitions, …
“The poems are ‘anti’ the way antique pieces are, which is to say, if these poems undermine meaning-making, it is because they have lost their significances.”
“Hongo’s connoisseurship arises as a kind of judicious and perceptive taste for the potential work and reach of beauty.”
—an appreciation by Major Jackson
“We all know how to hear, but Garrett makes us listen. Not just to the words, but to the music of poetry.”
by Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach