Doctoring His Death
Mickie Kennedy
Whenever a nurse asks if my father
            is still alive, I tell them he died
                        years ago, trying to save a terrier

from a house fire. Something
            flows between us—pity, reverence.
                        Of course it's a lie. He was struck

by a car in front of our house—
            slumped like a bag of trash,
                        a smear on the side of the street.

But I want his death to hold
            gravity, as vast as my grief.
                        So it's less of a lie and more

of a myth—a better ending for the man
            who taught me never to fear
                        dangerous things. Like the hornet

he trapped in an old pickle jar.
            Like the blue crab who broke
                        into our garage. He knelt for it it,

scooping it into the bowl of his hands.
            Of course it pinched him.
                        I almost think that's why he did it.
from the journal THE SOUTHERN REVIEW 
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"Doctoring His Death" is an exploration of grief and the ways we shape narratives to cope with loss. The poem juxtaposes a fabricated heroic death with the stark reality, highlighting the human desire for meaning in tragedy. It reflects on my father's fearless nature and my need to mythologize his end, highlighting the complexities of mourning.

Mickie Kennedy on "Doctoring His Death"
"Moriel Rothman-Zecher Makes the Case Against Italicizing Non-English Words"

"So, we might seek to break English open by weaving in other languages, as I sought to do with Yiddish, as many before have done with Spanish—Nina Marie Martínez comes to mind, in terms of both syntax and punctuation—and others, still, have done this from within English, uplifting and celebrating hegemonically scorned dialects, Zora Neale Hurston in the last century, Marlon James in this one, and, I’d argue, also Barbara Kingsolver, in her recent Demon Copperhead."

via LIT HUB
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What Sparks Poetry:
Talin Tahajian on Language as Form


"All the affordances of the medium of language come together to realize the musical and narrative sequences of this poem, which taught me the fundamentals of rhythm and pacing. 'Half-Light' is one of the first poems I memorized. It is a 'pre-existing form,' as Bidart describes across his poetry and interviews, that I inhabit almost every time I try to write, mostly unbeknownst to my more conscious enterprises."
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