"Rocksteady" by Ishion Hutchinson

View this email on a browser Forward to a friend August 2, 2017   Rocksteady   Ishion Hutchinson

for Colin Channer   For these cramped fragments of Thomas,                stir: 'I had never loved England,' and stir:                'I had loved it foolishly,' stir, transmuted:                'like a slave, not having realized it was not mine.'   Ah, there, saint, captive, the sentinel is at the door,                 beating upon the bulwark of its silence.                 I, a late remnant in that still, unceasing circuit                 scaling down the dock, I am a mystery among faces, know   injustice and illusion, and laughter                 that is silver lashing, lashing the hummingbird                 in the breeze. I know something drastic is                 waiting release, some instrument to measure,   in one stroke, paradise, and when it strikes again,                 emptiness, the city gripped with emptiness.   It is happening, right here, as you see, in syntax;                 my circadian fortress is pitching me. Rocksteady.    And because our enmity is strong and our love                is strong, they bring us together, divided:                fire into fire: first, sea; and of sea, cane;                the lasting enmity, faithless and haunting.   The mass and strength of our love, the blades               of our imagined empathy, our compassion,                crossed from an abridged womb, the sea;   wind lifts the balance sheets of the dead, unbalanced;              names are fluttering against the divided sun.              I look up on what's mine and not, nettled              first in literature, now drained to a grey core:   'the worlds whole sap is sunke,' utterly dry.             Progress at rest, resting of a vacant peace,             after four centuries, laden with perish   and gain. Everywhere touched by the rain,             ending, a 'work that's finished to our hands.' Rocksteady.            Copyright © 2017 Ishion Hutchinson. Used with permission of the author. About This Poem   "Rocksteady is one of the great sounds Jamaica has exhaled. It's a mist between '70s reggae and '60s ska. It's doo-wop, Motown, and Stax all stacked akimbo in a way that gives edge. The sound of a people finding voice while testing the limits of the world." —Ishion Hutchinson   Ishion Hutchinson is the author of House of Lords and Commons (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016). He was born in Port Antonio, Jamaica, and teaches at Cornell University. Poetry by Hutchinson   House of Lords and Commons (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016) "Cape Coast Castle" by Yusef Komunyakaa "Five Directions to My House" by Juan Felipe Herrera "For Crying Out Loud" by Terrance Hayes Help Support Poem-a-Day   If you value Poem-a-Day, please consider a monthly donation or one-time gift to help make it possible. Poem-a-Day is the only digital series publishing new, previously unpublished work by today's poets each weekday morning. The free series, which also features a curated selection of classic poems on weekends, reaches 450,000+ readers daily. Thank you! 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

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