Poem of the Week | February 20, 2017

This week, we are excited to present a new poem by Corey Miller. Miller was born in Herrin, Illinois and holds an MFA from the Michener Center for Writers. Poems are forthcoming or have appeared in Boston Review, Kenyon Review, Best New Poets 2014, and elsewhere.

Author’s note:

I think all of my poems, whether they’re actually addressed to someone or not, are written with someone “in mind” – they’re anecdotes between us. If not, I’d never have the courage necessary to make the language as idiosyncratic as is required of both poetry and real intimacy between humans.

Whenever I’m recounting an old story with a friend or friends, I like to think that some single person exists between/among us who holds that memory intact. Take for instance the time my friend Abe, completely unprompted, called me “Corny Milner” at dinner, and for whatever reason my friend Karim could not stop laughing at this joke, a joke that, like any good poem, contains its own critique: it’s corny. As the night was ending, I seriously had to ask Karim if he needed a ride home because he was in hysterics and I was worried about him scooting off in his condition. Somewhere out there, Corny Milner exists and his sole purpose is to preserve this single memory.

The poem “Nephew,” is a third person who exists between me and my youngest nephew Cooper, specifically the dressed-up version of him I encountered on a trip home for Christmas. Since he was three at the time it was written, that person is full of fantasy and awe and, since I was twenty-three at that time, that person is full of absurd explanations and a yearning to provide guidance but a lack of authority. If they’re a true average of us, the speaker is thirteen, his name is Corper, and he has a fondness for a sno-cone flavor named “Tiger’s Blood.”