Featured Poem: “National Anthem” by Christopher Kempf
NATIONAL ANTHEM
If, then, a country could be saved, may we
all be its pulse & schematics. May our flags
kneel for us. May nothing reign. May one day
mean Tuesday, & may our planes on alert
over Khost & Riyadh whisper love songs
to the canyons beneath them. May weddings
go on for months. May guns gather bullets
back into themselves like fishing line. If
a country could be saved, could wave lagoons
too be a part of it? Could slot machines?
Could a country be lifted like a god?
If Modesto comes back, could Saturday night
we drive T-Birds to the Wolfman? May
dawn’s early light lacquer our faces. May
Huck & Jim— May group text— Let every
coal seam spit back its dead. Let the many
of us be one, the one be numerous
& mongrel. Imagine spangled— & may
each of our stadiums smolder. May marching
bands dazzle & thrall us, their drums like war
no one will remark, their winds & brasses
forming the tightest of scripts. The seamstress,
we know—age 13—who dyed the cotton
& cut the starlight in the flag Francis Scott
hailed was a servant girl, Grace Wisher. May
we, in the poem of our country, be such
exquisite stitchwork. May synecdoche
mean “fruited plain.” “Beautiful river.” In
that country, nuke silos swallow missiles
down like hot dogs. In that country, cop cars
flip Snapples to day laborers. May stars
blaze. May landfills flower & hum. May one
by one we gather, then, in the swollen fields
of our republic, above us the rockets’
red glare growing faint, some praise-song
swept upon us utterly, like a wind. May we
we will say—which will, one day, become us.
Christopher Kempf is the author of What Though the Field Be Lost (LSU Press, Spring 2021) and Late in the Empire of Men (Four Way, 2017). Recipient of a Pushcart Prize, National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, and Wallace Stegner Fellowship from Stanford University, he holds a Ph.D. in English Literature from the University of Chicago. Kempf teaches in the MFA program at the University of Illinois.