Young, Joy 2022
At nine years old your childhood was for rent.
A continuous game of musical beds, where
a lease was signed on a new family before you
had the chance to unpack. I first met you in spring.
– Joy Young, “Rent”
At nine years old your childhood was for rent.
A continuous game of musical beds, where
a lease was signed on a new family before you
had the chance to unpack. I first met you in spring.
– Joy Young, “Rent”
basement smell(t) like a raccoon
chewin on a banana laffy taffy
inside de furnace
cussin mary’s baby
& erything else
– Avery R. Young, “[out wes(t)]”
Watch Avery R. Young speak with WGN News about being named Chicago’s Inaugural Poet Laureate:
1. He reminded me of the character Willis Jackson from the TV show Diff’rent Strokes. This prompted me to reimagine a dark narrative of a Willis who would be bullied for having all of blk Harlem caked on him inside his new Manhattan boarding school. In front of a studio audience who wouldn’t laugh.
– Avery R. Young, from “peestain”
Watch Avery R. Young perform with De Deacon Board here:
There’s an article on how to eat an apple.
But I am eating a pear and thinking
pear in Korean is a homonym for ship or boat
– Emily Jungmin Yoon, “News”
Read this interview with Emily Jungmin Yoon from The Blueshift Journal:
http://www.theblueshiftjournal.com/#!April-Feature-Interview-with-Emily-Yoon/cltp/5707f5250cf2e0dbcac872ff
I want to paint you with rainwater:
your window, smoke over slick avenues.
The first time I thought you beautiful,
your lashes blonde lamplight.
– Emily Jungmin Yoon, “Soren”
Watch Emily Jungmin Yoon read her work at UChicago:
The day folds up like money
if you’re lucky. Mostly
sun a cold coin
drumming into the blue
of a guitar case. Close
up & head home.
– Kevin Young, “Busking”
RUN AWAY from this sub-
scriber for the second time
are TWO NEGROES, viz. SMART,
an outlandish dark fellow
– Kevin Young, “Reward”
Watch Kevin Young read and discuss some of his poetry:
We cannot push ourselves away
from this quiet, even in our sprees
of inattention, the departing passengers
stubbing out their smokes, arrivees in tears,
lots of cellophane, the rumpus over parking.
– Dean Young, “Sleep Cycle”
Listen to Dean Young’s reading with Kenneth Koch for the Poetry Center of Chicago on February 10, 2000:
You shouldn’t have a heart attack
in your 20s. 47 is the perfect time
for a heart attack. Feeding stray shadows
only attracts more shadows. Starve a fever,
shatter a glass house. People often mistake
thirst for hunger so first take a big slurp.
– Dean Young, “Folklore”
Read NPR’s segment on Dean Young’s Pre-Transplant Poetry:
The Heart Of Dean Young’s Pre-Transplant Poetry
The poet’s latest collection, Fall Higher, was published just days after he received a life-saving heart transplant. Now, Young is on the mend, but his book recalls when he was staring down death.
The world weeps. There are no tears
To be found. It is deemed a miracle.
The president appears on screens
In villages and towns, in cities in jungles
And jungles still affectionately called cities.
He appears on screens and reads a story.
– John Yau, “Broken Sonnet”
Listen to an interview with John Yau from Clocktower:
It does not do you like it
Imperfect copy’s forgery
Posts its vermillion decree
– John Yau, “The Missing Portrait (1)”
Watch John Yau’s reading at the Hammes Campus Bookstore in November 2015: