Magali Roy-Fequiere’s poems explore memory and the phenomenal world. A daughter of multiple diasporas, she sees community as a state of radical openness. Her interest in photography is an attempt to get to know things vividly and honestly. Born in Haiti, she studied movement with the legendary Lavinia Williams. At seven, her family moved to San Juan, Puerto Rico. Her transnational childhood marks her research on nationalism and intellectual life. She chairs Gender and Women’s Studies at Knox College, Illinois, where she lives with her husband Konrad and their cats.
You Said Think About Turning a Hundred and Fifty Three On that day I will be loam and tree and plum, perhaps My particles omnipresent, at least there where my remains were scattered A duty performed by the hands of a loving niece Composting is ever-so-hopeful my once-toes birthing blue asters my liver now useful switch-grass my eyes resting near the pupa of a beetle my lymph vapor journeying sagacious to other hemispheres