Performing at Honey in Minneapolis. “My last birthday, I was surrounded by people who loved me, and the loudest thought in my head was still, ‘They wouldn’t even be sad if you died.’”
Don’t miss this incredible new poem from Neil Hilborn, performing at Honey in Minneapolis.
Get your hands on Neil’s newest book, THE FUTURE, NOW AVAILABLE!
“Pretend that the whole world is the music video of your love. Finish every sentence by taking off your sunglasses, especially when you aren’t wearing any.”
Don’t miss this beautiful poem from Jared Singer, featuring at Button Poetry Live.
Performing at Honey in Minneapolis. “I don’t know how we thought all our stuff could fit into this tiny apartment when we first picked it out, back before I said anything about my doubts, my doubts, they feel so stupid now, now that we’ve learned how to say to each other more than ‘I’m afraid.’”
Don’t miss this beautiful new poem from Neil Hilborn, performing at Honey in Minneapolis.
Get your hands on Neil’s forthcoming book, THE FUTURE, coming April 2018, preorder now for a signed copy!
“I can’t help but believe if the women I loved were gathered at a table, the general consensus among them would be, alright, the good thing about Omar is that he doesn’t take anything seriously. The bad thing about Omar, is that he doesn’t take anything seriously.”
Don’t miss this incredible poem from Omar Holmon, featuring at Button Poetry Live.
“Stained glass is sometimes just light born in a better neighborhood and I can smell the gunpowder you swallowed every time I startle a flock of birds that will never fly again.”
Don’t miss this magnificent poem from William Evans, featuring at Button Poetry Live.
In-Depth Look: Ashaki Jackson – “The Public is Generally Self taught and Uninformed”
Appreciating poetry is often about patience: sitting with a poem, meditating on it, and re-reading it multiple times. With spoken word, we don’t always get a chance to do that. This series is about taking that chance, and diving a little deeper into some of the new poems going up on Button.
“Sometimes there is silence after a video is released. You want to describe it as grief, or disbelief, or trauma.”
In addition to being a poet, Ashaki M. Jackson, Ph.D., is also a social psychologist. That feels relevant when experiencing this poem, which does so much with so few words. Note how the poem is written in second-person, but that the “you” feels alive in its specificity. At first, it feels perhaps self-incriminating, exploring the reflexive thoughts that many of us have when reading about another injustice. But as the poem goes on, it moves from the universal to something a bit more focused, which brings everything back to the title. This is a poem that has something specific to say– not just about media and information, but about the specific issue of police violence and its roots in US history.
The poem is also a powerful crystallization of an idea that I’ve found more and more friends and colleagues (in poetry, academia, and beyond) discussing lately– how hungry we are for hot-takes, and how difficult it can be to get a more nuanced, multi-layered idea to catch fire and go viral. When excavating the whole truth requires that we “consider the history of policing in a chattel system” (explored in books and articles like this), are we really willing to do that, or will we be content with incomplete truths?