issue 12 FEATURE: kenyatta rogers


Under a sun that burns
like a forgotten kettle, there is an eclipse.  
A sun, a blood moon.

My mind is a broken snow fence.
Before there was me there was me.

Before a red-breasted bird there was me.
In a cavern, yes, there was me.
In a cavern, yes, I danced it away.

Where do we find settlement?
There is no way to settle.
There is no “ment” unless it covers a coven.   

Like a spiral that forgot how to curl, 
find me a body, thread me
into your heart like a piston.

Under the covers I still hide from the sun. 
Maybe, I’m an owl who eats only cherries.

My where begins with “no” and ends in ellipses.  
A boy to a man, is saying you needs a politic,
or a religion, or a doctor, or clue of a feeling.  


Kenyatta Rogers was the 2012-2013 Visiting Poet in English at Columbia College Chicago where he also earned his MFA in Poetry. He is a Cave Canem fellow and a Poet-in-Residence for the Hands On Stanzas program through the Poetry Center of Chicago. A Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, his work has been previously published in or is forthcoming from jubilat, Vinyl, Court Green, Rhino Poetry, and The Volta, among others. He is an Associate Editor with Rhino Poetry and currently serves on the creative writing faculty at the Chicago High School for the Arts.