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Sarah Kay was born in New York City, New York, to a Japanese American mother and a Jewish American father. She is the co-director and founder of her current project, project VOICE an organization that facilitates the creation and sharing of poetry in classrooms and communities around the world.. She began performing poetry at the Bowery Poetry Club in the East Village at the age of 14, joining their Slam Team in 2006. That year, she was the youngest person competing in the National Poetry Slam in Austin, Texas. She has participated in many poetry slams. In 2007 Kay made her television debut, performing the poem "Hands" on HBO's Def Poetry Jam. Kay is also a resident poet for The Paris Review where she contributes in a weekly poetry column titled “Poetry Rx.” Sarah Kay is the author of four poetry books. She lives in New York City.
Jakarta, January
After Hanif Abdurraqib & Frank O’Hara
It is the last class of the day & I am teaching a classroom of sixth graders about poetry & across town a man has walked into a Starbucks & blown himself up while some other men throw grenades in the street & shoot into the crowd of civilians & I am 27 years old which means I am the only person in this room who was alive when this happened in New York City & I was in eighth grade & sitting in my classroom for the first class of the day & I made a joke about how mad everyone was going to be at the pilot who messed up & later added, how stupid do you have to be for it to happen twice? & the sixth graders are practicing listing sensory details & somebody calls out blue skies as a sight they love & nobody in this classroom knows what has happened yet & they do not know that the school is in lockdown which is a word we did not have when I was in sixth grade & the whole class is laughing because a boy has called out dog poop as a smell he does not like & what is a boy if not a glowing thing learning what he can get away with & I was once a girl in a classroom on the lucky side of town who did not know what had happened yet & electrical fire is a smell I did not know I did not like until my neighborhood smelled that way for weeks & blue skies is a sight I have never trusted again & poetry is what I reached for in the days when the ash would not stop falling & there is a sixth grade girl in this classroom whose father is in that Starbucks & she does not know what has happened yet & what is a girl if not a pulsing thing learning what the world will take from her & what if I am still a girl sitting in my classroom on the lucky side of town making a careless joke looking at the teacher for some kind of answer & what if I am also the teacher without any answers looking back at myself & what is an adult if not a terrified thing desperate to protect something you cannot save? & how lucky do you have to be for it to miss you twice? & tomorrow a sixth grade girl will come to class while her father has the shrapnel pulled from his body & maybe she will reach for poetry & the sky outside the classroom is so terribly blue & the students are quiet & looking at me & waiting for a grown-up or a poem or an answer or a bell to ring & the bell rings & they float up from their seats like tiny ghosts & are gone
Toothbrush to the Bicycle Tire
They told me that I was meant for the cleaner life,that you would drag me through the mud.
They said that you would tread all over me,that they could see right through you,
that you were full of hot air,that I would always be chasing, always watching you disappear after sleeker models that would be a vicious cycle.
But I know better.I know about your rough edges and I have seen your perfect curves,
I will fit into whatever space you’ll let me.If loving you meant getting dirty, bring on the grime,
I will leave this porcelain hole behind.I’m used to twice a day relationships but with you I’d take all the time.
And I know we live in different worlds and we’re always really busy,but in my dreams you spin around me so fast I always wake up dizzy.
So maybe one day you’ll grow tired of the road,and roll on back to me,
and when I blink my eyes into one morningyour smile will be the only one I see.
from No Matter the Wreckage (2014)
They told me that I was meant for the cleaner life,that you would drag me through the mud.
They said that you would tread all over me,that they could see right through you,
that you were full of hot air,that I would always be chasing, always watching you disappear after sleeker models that would be a vicious cycle.
But I know better.I know about your rough edges and I have seen your perfect curves,
I will fit into whatever space you’ll let me.If loving you meant getting dirty, bring on the grime,
I will leave this porcelain hole behind.I’m used to twice a day relationships but with you I’d take all the time.
And I know we live in different worlds and we’re always really busy,but in my dreams you spin around me so fast I always wake up dizzy.
So maybe one day you’ll grow tired of the road,and roll on back to me,
and when I blink my eyes into one morningyour smile will be the only one I see.
from No Matter the Wreckage (2014)
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