The Tradition

by Jericho Brown

How Do you say God Now that the night Rises sooner? Why Must we wake to work Before any alarm? I am the man asking, The great-grandson Made so by the dead Tenant farmers promised A plot of woods to hew. They thought they could Own the dirt they were Bound to. In that part Of the country, a knot Is something you get After getting knocked Down, and story means Lie. In your plot Of the country, class Means school, this room Where we practice Words that undo your Tongue when you tell A lie or start a promise Or unravel like a story.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Jericho Brown is the recipient of a Whiting Award and of fellowships from the John Simon Guggenheim Foundation, the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University, and the National Endowment for the Arts. His poems have appeared in Fence, jubilat, The New Criterion, The New Republic, The New Yorker, The New York Times, Time, and several of The Best American Poetry anthologies. His first book, Please (New Issues, 2008), won the American Book Award. His second book, The New Testament (Copper Canyon, 2014), won the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award. He serves as poetry editor for The Believer. He is an associate professor of English and Creative Writing and Director of the Creative Writing Program at Emory University in Atlanta.