Years: 2009, 2011, 2013
Ama Codjoe was raised in Youngstown, Ohio with roots in Memphis and Accra. She has received fellowships from Cave Canem and Callaloo. Her Pushcart Prize nominated poems have appeared in Tidal Basin Review, Pluck!, Washington Square, Apex Magazine and are forthcoming in Callaloo.
Hours ago—minutes?—in the whale of night,
in its darkest field, I found what some saw die,
but what I say lives: as real, as mythic
as the body held across distances.
What more to say of earth? Dream leaves us.
Two suns fall: one moves like rust,
the other slick and quick. I snatch
the ball like a handful of jacks,
shake my fist and throw it to the ground.
The other sun, the slower one, towers
overhead like stalks of corn in Iowa.
It is so hot, I think I will catch fire.
No water or shade for miles—no chance
of rain. Heavy with this knowledge, I dance.