Farther
Ayokunle Falomo
       We are both fathers now, my father
              and I. How's that

                     ~


   for having something in common? In truth,
        I envy the fatherless. For how defensible

   their sorrow is.

                     ~


If my father should die today, he'll die
   without having held his only grandchild,

      though he's only ten miles away from here.

                     ~


   Today, my daughter is three months old.

Today, she's six months old. Today,

      she is nine months old. Today she's twelve...

                     ~

   In the legend, (the one I dreamed—or
      did I make it up...?) a fatherless boy sleeps
on the bank of a shallow stream with a rock

   as his pillow. When he wakes up, he walks
      down an endless street begging for water.

                     ~

            Though he's been dead for more than
        a decade now, do you still speak to your father,

                     ~

            Father? Tonight I am speaking to you
        live from the checkpoint that leads into

            The City of the Fatherless. I'm sorry.

   I have to go. The officer's asking me
            for your death certificate. I'll need

       to let him know you do not have one
yet. If he should ask, What do you mean?

       I'll keep staring at him until he lets me through.
   I have nothing, I have nothing to lose, but time.
from the book AUTOBIOMYTHOGRAPHY OF / Alice James Books
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"The Past Is Never Dead: PW Talks with Brandon Shimoda"

"I think this research was born in a way out of loneliness. I did a lot of it during lockdown, so talking with these people was a very practical response to feeling like I’m wandering through these landscapes alone. These landscapes and the subject didn’t really come to life for me until I invited other people in. And then I just wanted to step back, because what they were sharing with me was so beautiful. Also, I was writing about a collective experience, and I felt like if the book was just from my subjectivity, then I would be defining that collective experience."

via PUBLISHER'S WEEKLY
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What Sparks Poetry: Dior J. Stephens on "UYP 7"

“The plum and the plum tree, then, became a philosophical center for me. Or, if not center, a lily pad of poetic thought, leading me to reflect on what exactly it meant for such fruition, such overabundance, to result in death, rot, and souring. And how, in a number of ways, these stages of growth remarked upon the trends of capitalism, (over)production and exploitation in Western society. I couldn’t help but wonder, day after day, if this cycle—that of bud to bloom to death and decay—was inevitable in all arenas of life.”
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