Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; "Mythology"
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Thrall, Natasha Trethewey
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Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; “Torna Atrás”
[Text ID: “how it is / that a man could love— and so / diminish what he loves.”]
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Could you do one of suffering from an "almost something" relationship.
If thats too difficult, something about heartbreak it's okay ❤️🩹❤️🩹🥺
Helga Floros things i want to ask you. / Audrey Niffenegger The Time Traveler's Wife / unknown / @hamletmaschine unaligned (2016) / Natasha Trethewey Memorial Drive / Jan Heller Levi Writing for This Story to End Before I Begin Another
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natasha trethewey domestic work: "housekeeping"
kofi
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[ID of the poem "Housekeeping" by Natasha Trethewey:
We mourn the broken things, chair legs / wrenched from their seats, chipped plates, / the threadbare clothes. We work the magic / of glue, drive the nails, mend the holes. / We save what we can, melt small pieces / of soap, gather fallen pecans, keep neck bones / for soup. Beating rugs against the house, / we watch dust, lit like stars, spreading / across the yard. Late afternoon, we draw / the blinds to cool the rooms, drive the bugs / out. My mother irons, singing, lost in reverie. / I mark the pages of a mail-order catalog, / listen for passing cars. All day we watch / for the mail, some news from a distant place.
END ID.]
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Natasha Trethewey, "Incident"
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Natasha Trethewey (Bellocq’s Ophelia, 2002)
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Natasha Trethewey, from Thrall: Poems; "Mythology"
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Why is everything I see the past I’ve tried to forget?
~Natasha Trethewey
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Thrall, Natasha Trethewey
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https://poets.org/poem/theories-time-and-space
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Kitchen Maid with Supper at Emmaus, or the Mulata
---after the painting by Diego Velàzquez, ca. 1619
She is the vessels on the table before her:
the copper pot tipped toward us, the white pitcher
clutched in her hand, the black one edged in red
and upside down. Bent over, she is the mortar
and the pestle at rest in the mortar--still angled
in its posture of use. She is the stack of bowls
and the bulb of garlic beside it, the basket hung
by a nail on the wall and the white cloth bundled
in it, the rag in the foreground recalling her hand.
She's the stain on the wall the size of her shadow--
the color of blood, the shape of a thumb. She is echo
of Jesus at table, framed in the scene behind her:
his white corona, her white cap. Listening, she leans
into what she knows. Light falls on half her face.
Natasha Trethewey
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"I always go to the Oxford English Dictionary and look up every single word that I think I already know. I looked up the word 'native' again, and I was thinking of native in so many ways. You cannot say it and not think of Native Son or Notes of a Native Son, or Native Americans. There are all kinds of ways that one must think of that word, and when I looked it up, my expectation was that the first definition would be something that referred to native plants, or someone that is native to a place, like Mississippi. But the first definition is 'someone born into the condition of servitude, of thrall.' ... Why do we have this word 'native?' When we claim land, the people who are there are the 'natives'; it is about colonialism, it is about empire, and the word 'thrall' is right there. I began to think, 'Okay, so a thrall is a slave, and yet we are enthralled to all sorts of things'. We are enthralled to the language that seeks to name us; thus 'mulatto,' 'quadroon,' 'octoroon,' 'sambo,' 'albino.' Then, when you think about travel narratives and captivity narratives, it was language that they were using to shape the understanding of a place and its inhabitants. When you look at those colonial maps that have drawings of the people there, it is the iconography, as well as the taxonomies of who they were that they were enthralled to." - Natasha Trethewey (Hall 108)
from: Joan Wylie Hall. Conversations with Natasha Trethewey. University Press of Mississippi, 2013.
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