Poetry Fiction Issue

The Believer

More

I hadn’t wanted to believe myself
Numbered among the unlucky ones.
There’d always seemed an arrogance in that
Of which my superstition made me wary.
Nor was the title very accurate.
In fact it seemed a blessing or a talent
Sometimes, or its own kind of deeper luck,
The way I walked into each suffering
Which was its own intricate world complete
With wild children wrangling to be king
Of every broken square of concrete
And market stalls of shrimp kept cool on ice
Whose infinitesimal limbs caught light
As if hauled glittering into genesis.

Danielle Chapman is a poet and critic living in Chicago. Her writing appears regularly in Poetry and The Chicago Tribune.
Jump to comments
Presented by
Get Today's Top Stories in Your Inbox (preview)

A Delightful, Pixar-Inspired Cartoon About the Toys in Your Cereal Box

The story of an action figure and his reluctant sidekick, who trek across a kitchen in search of treasure.


Elsewhere on the web

Join the Discussion

After you comment, click Post. If you’re not already logged in you will be asked to log in or register. blog comments powered by Disqus

Video

Juice Cleanses: The Worst Diet

A doctor tries the ever-popular Master Cleanse. Sort of.

Video

Why Did I Study Physics?

Using hand-drawn cartoons to explain an academic passion

Video

What If Emoji Lived Among Us?

A whimsical ad imagines what life would be like if emoji were real.

Video

Living Alone on a Sailboat

"If you think I'm a dirtbag, then you don't understand the lifestyle."

Feature

The Future of Iced Coffee

Are artisan businesses like Blue Bottle doomed to fail when they go mainstream?

Writers

Up
Down

More in Entertainment

More back issues, Sept 1995 to present.

Just In