American Life in Poetry: How Anarcha Sees His Work
Kwame Dawes. Courtesy photo. When historical figures become the subjects of poetry, there is a rich opportunity for transporting us into the emotional world of such people through the beauty of the imagination.
The facts of Anarcha Westcott’s difficult story can be found online, but Dominique Christina’s persona poem, “How Anarcha Sees His Work,” enriches our understanding of the brutish work of the 19th century South Carolina physician, J. Marion Sims, and in so doing, the poet imbues Anarcha’s life with a quality of human dignity in powerful ways.
How Anarcha Sees His Work By Dominique Christina i seen a chicken get his head cut off and bein a chicken he dumb and don’t know he dead so he floppin and still running the yard still! no head at all blood like bread crumbs runnin runnin and folk laugh and wait on the chicken to know he gone and it take a while
i mean it aint always quick or easy for a dead thing to know it’s a dead thing so its squawkin and flappin like it still got life and ain’t no life there at all and that is what it’s like
doctor/massa tickled at the blood and the squawkin waitin on me to know i’m a dead thing and me, dumb wit stayin.
Kwame Dawes. Courtesy photo. When historical figures become the subjects of poetry, there is a rich opportunity for transporting us into the emotional world of such people through the beauty of the imagination.
The facts of Anarcha Westcott’s difficult story can be found online, but Dominique Christina’s persona poem, “How Anarcha Sees His Work,” enriches our understanding of the brutish work of the 19th century South Carolina physician, J. Marion Sims, and in so doing, the poet imbues Anarcha’s life with a quality of human dignity in powerful ways.
How Anarcha Sees His Work By Dominique Christina i seen a chicken get his head cut off and bein a chicken he dumb and don’t know he dead so he floppin and still running the yard still! no head at all blood like bread crumbs runnin runnin and folk laugh and wait on the chicken to know he gone and it take a while
i mean it aint always quick or easy for a dead thing to know it’s a dead thing so its squawkin and flappin like it still got life and ain’t no life there at all and that is what it’s like
doctor/massa tickled at the blood and the squawkin waitin on me to know i’m a dead thing and me, dumb wit stayin.