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About this poet

Meg Day grew up in California’s Bay Area and received a BA from the University of California–San Diego, an MFA from Mills College, and a PhD from the University of Utah. Day is the author of Last Psalm at Sea Level (Barrow Street, 2014), winner of the Barrow Street Press Poetry Prize and the Publishing Triangle’s 2015 Audre Lorde Award. Last Psalm at Sea Level was also a finalist for several awards, including a Kate Tufts Discovery Award and a 2015 Lambda Literary Award. Day has received awards and fellowships from the Association of Writers & Writing Programs, the Lambda Literary Foundation, and the National Endowment for the Arts, among others. Day currently teaches at Franklin & Marshall College and lives in Pennsylvania. 

Batter My Heart, Transgender’d God

Batter my heart, transgender’d god, for yours
is the only ear that hears: place fear in my heart
where faith has grown my senses dull & reassures
my blood that it will never spill. Show every part
to every stranger’s anger, surprise them with my drawers
full up of maps that lead to vacancies & chart
the distance from my pride, my core. Terror, do not depart
but nest in the hollows of my loins & keep me on all fours.
My knees, bring me to them; force my head to bow again.
Replay the murders of my kin until my mind’s made new;
let Adam’s bite obstruct my breath ’til I respire men
& press his rib against my throat until my lips turn blue.
You, O duo, O twin, whose likeness is kind: unwind my confidence
& noose it round your fist so I might know you in vivid impermanence.

From Last Psalm at Sea Level (Barrow Street, 2014). Copyright © 2014 by Meg Day. Used with the permission of the author.

From Last Psalm at Sea Level (Barrow Street, 2014). Copyright © 2014 by Meg Day. Used with the permission of the author.

Meg Day

Meg Day

Meg Day is the author of Last Psalm at Sea Level (Barrow Street, 2014), winner of the Barrow Street Press Poetry Prize and the Publishing Triangle’s 2015 Audre Lorde Award. She lives in Pennsylvania. 

by this poet

poem

the way
my lineage is deaf
not deaf
the way
America is deaf
not deaf
the way
my president is deaf
not Deaf
the way
DEAF-PREZ-NOW is Deaf
not deaf
the way
my family is D/deaf
not Deaf
the way
DEAF-WAY is Deaf
not Deaf
the way

poem

When the grapevine had thinned
but not broken & the worst was yet to come
of winter snow, I tracked my treed heart
to the high boughs of a quaking
aspen & shot it down.
                                           If love comes fast,
let her be a bullet & not a barking dog;

poem

            Steamtown National Historic Site was created in 1986 to
            preserve the history of steam railroading in America,
            concentrating on the era 1850 through 1950.

We weren’t supposed to, so we did
      what any band of boys would do
& we did it the

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