by Evie Shockley

my last modernist poem, #4
(or, re-re-birth of a nation)

          a clean-cut man brings a brown blackness
to a dream-carved, unprecedented
          place. some see in this the end of race,
like the end of a race that begins

          with a gun: a finish(ed) line we might
finally limp across. for others,
          this miracle marks an end like year’s
end, the kind that whips around again

         and again: an end that is chilling,
with a lethal spring coiled in the snow.

         ask lazarus about miracles:
the hard part comes afterwards. he stepped
         into the reconstruction of his
life, knowing what would come, but not how.


Evie Shockley is the author of a half-red sea (2006) and two chapbooks, 31 words * prose poems (2007) and The Gorgon Goddess (2001). Her work appears most recently or is forthcoming in PMS poemmemoirstory, The Southern Review, Achiote Seeds, Pluck!, Columbia Poetry Review and Tuesday; An Art Project. Currently a guest editor of jubilat, she teaches at Rutgers University, New Brunswick.