X Speaks

I am very happy the great Frank X. Walker was named the Kentucky Poet Laureate today. I met Frank during my time working for the Governor's School for the Arts and while I have always loved his writing (my high school students always deeply connected with "Why I Ring the Bell"), I also found him to be simply a profoundly thoughtful and passionate human being.

For Mr. Walker, I share this meager piece I published in Kudzu a few years ago, inspired by seeing him at a reading at Third Street Stuff:

X Speaks

On attending the Affrilachian Poets reading on April 17, 2009 in Lexington, Kentucky.

"Let us pray"

Mother patted my knee and bowed.

My flaking, bony joints rubbed one another

as my tiny fingers intertwined.

Reverend Staggs's voice swirled around the burnished pews,

pressed against the drywall and nails in the old Nazarene church ceiling.

The Word burrowed into my pores—

swelling behind my temples,

within each bone, each tendon of my tangled hands.

While unfamiliar voices shrieked supplication all around,

discordant, syncopated,

I clutched my pulse, throbbing in my neck.

Felt the Word, heard the words, shaped by his mouth.

Tonight, no altar, collection plate,

disciples hushed as they anticipate

and swirl the last spit of coffee in their cups,

watch another pastor rise.

My lids close upon his face

as his voice feels out the corners of the room.

The Word spoken aloud –

over the clinking silverware,

the murmuring laity,

the amens rising in my throat.