What people don't know about my name
is that my grandmother gave me that "k"
-my very own unexpected
consonant-
those two strong arms and two strong legs,
that broom-handle spine-
that letter about no one with a name
same as mine has.

A mis-
spelling, really-
the same botched phonetics of all her
girls' names,
misspelled but fancy

as chandeliers-Latonna Lee, Candies La Rayne, Lesi Annett
-names that know never to drink
lemon water from a silver fingerbowl

but names that can be bobbed with a "y"
and cheerlead.

Now, she called me Koey, so don't expect me to respond
to the first nasal tone of my name
but the harsher cough

that follows, that typo tambourined
from the back of the throat. I'll answer to cold & coal & coke, sometimes
even hear that sound as a scoop of coco, something dry

from the tin, but warmed with a little sugar and milk, a name snowing
while it's safe inside.


About this poem
"This piece is from my Fanny Linguistics series, a group of poems that explore the particular way my grandmother used (or misused, depending on who's talking) language. You see, she was raised during a time when women weren't necessarily taught how to read and write, so coupled with the specific way of speaking given to her in Western Kentucky, she had to make due. Now, my mother gave birth to me young (she was only 16), so it was up to my grandmother to fill out my birth certificate. The 'k' in my name has caused more folks to misspell my name than I can remember, but it's mine. Now that I've had a lifetime with it, I often think of that strong, unnecessary consonant as a small mark Fanny made on me to help keep me upright and strong as the letter itself looks."
-Nickole Brown

About Nickole Brown

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The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day[at]poets.org.


(c) 2015 Nickole Brown. Originally published by the Academy of American Poets, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate