Hunter by Phillip B. Williams

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend May 2, 2016   Hunter   Phillip B. Williams

When you were mine though not mine at all permanently, just a body borrowed without permission, a body interrupted, interruptive—                             the sky opened like a secret in a mouth mouth with a word in it     word with an arrowhead in its flank: Love, small   creature it was                                               crying in the night beneath me            Copyright © 2016 Phillip B. Williams. Used with permission of the author. About This Poem   “I wanted to write a short poem after having worked on a fourteen-page poem for quite some time. In some way killing or at least wounding love, with the v being the arrowhead, seemed like an appropriate way to move on with my life.” —Phillip B. Williams   Phillip B. Williams is the author of Thief in the Interior (Alice James Books, 2016). He teaches at Emory University and lives in Decatur, Georgia. Poetry by Williams   Thief in the Interior (Alice James Books, 2016) "Post-Dissertation-Intervention (i.)" by Ronaldo V. Wilson "Death and the City" by Rowan Ricardo Phillips "A Ghost" by Cole Swensen Poem-a-Day   Launched during National Poetry Month in 2006, Poem-a-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. Thanks for being a part of the Academy of American Poets community. To learn about other programs, including National Poetry Month, Poem in Your Pocket Day, the annual Poets Forum, and more, visit Poets.org.   You are receiving this e-mail because you elected to subscribe to our mailing list. If you would like to unsubscribe, please click here.   © Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane, Suite 901, New York, NY 10038