- These feet were made for running, and: At the root
These feet were made for running
A tongue is nolustrous or precious thing,no instrument, sharpas a blade.It isn’t a tickle of melodynor a platter onwhich compliments are laid.It is not the tattler or the tale,not the soothsayer, sound byte, or chime.But rather the pillow top to my rocket socksthe dust ruffle to these spring boardsof mine.
At the root
1The soundlike a mason jarfilled with frightened honeybees up the nape repeat over the crownrepeat permanentpieces fallaway. In fifteen minutes,all the lye is gone.
2The vibration separatesthe tragedy from the truth—my hair from my history.Each, I have been taught,are inadequate,having too much or too littleof something.
3This is the lie that remains. [End Page 500]
Jacquelyn Grant Brown is a graduate of Louisiana State University, where she received a BA in English and creative writing and a recent graduate of the lowresidency creative writing program at Pine Manor College, where she earned a Master’s in poetry. She resides in Baton Rouge with her husband and children.