At the school dances white and black girls shook on the floor, by Anais Duplan

Today, a poem by Anaïs Duplan, from the Bennington Review.

• [AT THE SCHOOL DANCES WHITE AND BLACK GIRLS SHOOK ON THE FLOOR.]

•   
• At the school dances, black and white girls shook on the floor.
• A crowd of trees formed around them. There was a countdown
• to the day when everyone would be shot. The administration said
• it was all right not to go to school that day so everyone hung
• out with friends. I talked to Sam about it. He thought we
• should’ve been there with the lockers, the classrooms, the desks,
• in the thick of it. With the guns and the youth, even if they were just ideas––
• not a present body, not to-day—in the tick of things. It wasn’t my day.
• I am speaking to you plainly now. Not from beyond the grave.

Poem from her book,  Mount Carmel and the Blood of Parnassus

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About the poet:  Anaïs Duplan is the author of a full-length poetry collection, Take This Stallion (Brooklyn Arts Press, 2016) and a chapbook, Mount Carmel and the Blood of Parnassus (Monster House Press, 2017). Their poems and essays have been published by Hyperallergic, PBS News Hour, the Academy of American Poets, Poetry Society of America, Bettering American Poetry, and Ploughshares. Their music criticism has appeared in Complex Magazine and  THUMP.


Duplan is a curator who has facilitated artists’ projects and exhibitions in Chicago, Boston, Santa Fe, Reykjavík, and Copenhagen. Duplan’s video art has appeared or is forthcoming in exhibitions at Flux Factory, Daata Editions, the 13th Baltic Triennial in Lithuania, and the Institute of Contemporary Art in L.A. Duplan is the founder of the Center for Afrofuturist Studies, an artist residency program for artists of color, and is currently a joint Public Programs Fellow at the Museum of Modern Art and the Studio Museum in Harlem.