a girl, she named her jewel, she sang
along with a metronome, a sweet alto.
it didn’t picture as she meant. she hurt.
she sank bare legs in white pebbles.
she sat on a tire swing and watched her father kill her mother.
little jewel, her mama gave her name and stance,
but she loved her father more.
The new issue of Bookslut includes a review of Last Seen, the new poetry collection by Jacqueline Jones Lamon (my former academic advisor, but I’m not biased - really). I think the premise is beautiful and stunning.
Children disappear. Jacqueline Jones LaMon, in Last Seen, winner of the 2010 Felix Pollak Prize in Poetry, covers this excruciating territory. In her preface to the section “The Elsewhere Chronicles” she describes looking closely at pictures of African American girls who had gone missing, and later searching online, discovering records of missing African Americans over many years.