Biography of Traci Brimhall
Traci Brimhall is a poet and professor in the United States. she teaches creative writing at Kansas State University.
Brimhall graduated from Florida State University with a BA, and Sarah Lawrence College with an MFA, and Western Michigan University.
Brimhall authored Our Lady of the Ruins (W.W. Norton, 2012) and Rookery (Southern Illinois University Press, 2010). Our Lady of Ruins was won the 2011 Barnard Women Poets Prize, awarded by Carolyn Forché. Rookery won the 2009 Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award and was afinalist for the ForeWord Book of the Year Award. Brimhall's work has also been published in The New Yorker, Poetry, New England Review, Ploughshares, Slate, The Believer, Kenyon Review, and The New Republic. Her work has also been featured on Poetry Daily, Verse Daily, Best of the Net, PBS Newshour, and Best American Poetry in 2013 and 2014. She has also worked with Eryn Cruft on poetry comics that have been published in Guernica, The Poetry Comics, and Nashville Review. The duo published The Wrong Side of Rapture through Ninth Letter in 2013. Brimhall co-authored the chapbook Bright Power with Brynn Saito Dark Peace (Diode Editions, 2013).
Brimhall received a 2013 National Endowment for the Arts Literature Fellowship in Poetry as well as the 2012 Summer Poet in Residence at the University of Mississippi,and the 2008-2009 Jay C. and Ruth Halls Poetry Fellowship at the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing. She has also been supported by the Sewanee Writers' Conference, The Writer’s Center of Bethesda, Vermont Studio Center, the Disquiet International Literary Program, and the Arctic Circle Residency. She was a King/Chávez/Parks Fellow.
Traci Brimhall Poems
Prelude to a Revolution
We go to prison windows and pass cigarettes, tangerines and iodine through the bars. Anything we think could heal a man. Assassins kiss our fingers. Mercenaries sing us songs about unbroken light
Our Bodies Break Light
We crawl through the tall grass and idle light, our chests against the earth so we can hear the river
Prelude to a Revolution
We go to prison windows and pass cigarettes, tangerines
and iodine through the bars. Anything we think
could heal a man. Assassins kiss our fingers.
Mercenaries sing us songs about unbroken light
as we mend their shirts. The bilingual murderers recite
lamentations in one tongue, and in another, young myths.