Thursday, April 17, 2003
After Hours at the Art Institute of Chicago, a collaboration with the Poetry Center of Chicago
Afterwards, we would remember the sudden appearance
of the two-headed yellow snake crawling from the trees
to the edge of the gate the moment I poured the water.
We would remember how the snake drank thirstily,
and did not try to cross over.
– M. Eliza Hamilton Abegunde, “Visitation”
Continue reading this poem⇒
Read this interview with M. Eliza Hamilton Abegunde:
Sometimes, the line between a writer’s mundane, everyday world and her creative, imaginative landscape can blur, even resist separation. This might describe the life of healing facilitator M. Eliza Hamilton Abgnd, whose novel-in-progress, The Arian’s Last Life, has been, thus far, a 20-year commute between past, present and future.
Do not let the smell of your own feces distract you.
Roll the toilet paper tightly after each use and discard
in the thin blue bags Dete changes every Monday.
Roll your tampons and sanitaries into the black bags
you have brought – so afraid someone will find them,
and pick the dried blood into a stew.
– M. Eliza Hamilton Abegunde, “Prime Directive #1”
Continue reading this poem⇒
More info on M. Eliza Hamilton Abegunde⇒
M. Eliza Hamilton Abegunde is a poet, teacher, birth doula, and an ancestral priest in the Yoruba Orisa tradition. Her poems have been anthologized in Gathering Ground, Beyond the Frontier: African American Poetry for the 21st Century, Knowing Stones: Poems of Exotic Places, and rhino. She is also the author of three poetry chapbooks and various collaborative projects and is a Cave Canem Fellow.