Sheila-Na-Gig Inc.

A poetry journal & small press

Kirk Judd

To My Husband’s Brilliant Niece
Who Planned a Tidy Suicide
My sister did too—
canceled credit cards, her cell,
positioned aromatic vases,
styled her clothing, her hair,
laid herself down on a plastic sheet.
She seemed to know exactly
where she was going.
I suspect you did too,
your pedagogics a microcosm
of quantum curiosity
and looped worlds,
your dreams of the afterlife
full thrust, faster than light—
a place no sun need shine.
I hope you will look for her there.
She answers to the name Margaret,
her aura overtones of trying-so-hard
and never-good-enough.
A kindred spark, opting
to take the same shortcut home.
My People Was Music
 (Reprint)
by Kirk Judd

Includes QR code for MP3 download: Powerful spoken word performances, featuring some of West Virginia’s Finest poets and musicians.

ISBN: 9798985524284 — $20.00 ($4.63 US Shipping per order)

Also see Porch Poems!

Kirk Judd has lived, worked, trout fished, and wandered around in West Virginia all of his life. Kirk was a member of the Appalachian Literary League, a founding member and former president of West Virginia Writers, Inc., and is a founding member of and creative writing instructor for Allegheny Echoes, Inc., dedicated to the support and preservation of WV cultural heritage arts. In addition to his two collections with Sheila-Na-Gig, Kirk is author of two other collections of poetry, Field of Vision (Aegina Press 1986) and Tao Billy (Trillium Press 1996), and a co-editor of the widely acclaimed anthology, Wild, Sweet Notes – 50 Years of West Virginia Poetry 1950-1999.. Kirk is internationally known for his performance work combining poetry and old-time music, and he has performed poetry in Ireland and across West Virginia at fairs, concerts, and festivals for many years.

Better Listeners

The dead are better listeners
Or even the living
If they’re not there

They will argue
But they are patient
They pay attention

Words have many meanings
We don’t know what we know
Until we speak

Feel the weight of the word
Lift from our tongues
The spare outward push

Of air across our lips
And the words become real
Hanging iridescent

In that beautiful
Open space
In front of you

Until they hear –
Your long dead mother
Or Darwin, or John Muir

Charlie with his banjo
Steve from Junior High
Who died in a car crash

Or even your wife
Your golf buddies
That great poet you heard last week

When those words are heard
They change
They don’t belong to just you anymore

They become something given
Not just something you said
Something you are – you were

You are changed
And all those riding with you
As you drive the back roads alone

Those listeners
Smile, and nod, and say
You’re welcome


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