St. Louis Poetry Center

Observable Readings
for Observable Readings for 2013-2014

September 9th: Erin Belieu, Lee Ann Roripaugh

October 14th: Lisa Ampleman, Ansel Elkins, Erika L. Sánchez

November 11th: Dora Malech, Shane McCrae

December 9th: Sandra Beasley, Paul Legault

February 10th: Hadara Bar-Nadav, Melody S. Gee

March 10th: Jeff Hamilton, Amaud Jamaul Johnson, Glenn Shaheen

April 14th: CM Burroughs, Kevin Prufer

May 12th: John Gallaher, Genevieve Kaplan


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.