St. Louis Poetry Center

Observable Readings
for 2014-2015

September 8th:
Jessica Baran
David J. Daniels

October 13th:
Nathan Hoks
Devin Johnston
Tyler Mills

November 10th:
Kara Candito
Bridget Lowe

December 8th:
Jennifer Perrine
Phillip B. Williams

February 9th:
Lauren K. Alleyne
Ye Chun
Gary L. McDowell

March 9th:
Tarfia Faizullah
Ruben Quesada

April 13th:
Jennifer L. Knox
Richard Newman

May 11th:
Rebecca Hazelton
Ted Mathys

View Past Seasons

October 1: Jericho Brown and James Allen Hall

Saturday, August 25, 2012 at 12:33 PM

Jericho Brown worked as the speechwriter for the Mayor of New Orleans before receiving his PhD in Creative Writing and Literature from the University of Houston. He also holds an MFA from the University of New Orleans and a BA from Dillard University. The recipient of the Whiting Writers Award and fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Radcliffe Institute at Harvard University, the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and the Krakow Poetry Seminar in Poland, Brown is an Assistant Professor at Emory University. His poems have appeared in journals and anthologies including, The American Poetry Review, jubilat, Kenyon Review, Oxford American, Ploughshares, A Public Space, and 100 Best African American Poems.  His first book, PLEASE (New Issues), won the American Book Award.

from Another Elegy

A man turns

In his sleep, so I take a picture.

He won't look at it, of course. It's

His bad side, his Mr. Hyde, the hole    

In a husband's head, the O

Of his wife's mouth . . . 

James Allen Hall is the author of Now You're the Enemy, which won awards from the Lambda Literary Foundation, the Texas Institute of Letters, andthe Fellowship of Southern Writers. He is the recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment of the Arts and the New York Foundation forthe Arts, and his poems have appeared in Best American Poetry, TriQuarterly, New England Review, Boston Review, and elsewhere. He teaches creative writing and literature in upstate New York.

from Safety

    The father does not knock on the locked door
     gently, as if loving a small hurt thing.

    The father does not say please over and over,
    until his voice becomes unraw with the not-said.

    The mother inside the room
    does not hold a gun to her chest.