An award-winning poet was murdered this week.
Renee Good was, of course, a multitude of other beings as well. We all are.
But in 2020, she won one of Old Dominion’s most prestigious accolades, the American Academy of American Poets Prize.
Rajiv Mohabir was serving as a judge for the contest in 202o and selected her poem as the winner. He said “…he never had the chance to meet or interact with Ms. Good, as he was teaching in Boston then and the contest was held remotely that year. But he said he was struck by the poem’s idea that “we have to kill something in order to know it,” and since Ms. Good’s killing, has been ruminating on its ending words:
“that the bible and qur’an and bhagavad gita are sliding long hairs behind my ear like mom used to & exhaling from their mouths ‘make room for wonder’ —
all my understanding dribbles down the chin onto the chest & is summarized as:
life is merely
to ovum and sperm
and where those two meet
and how often and how well
and what dies there.”
Read the whole poem, On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs at poets.org.
Ruth has this week’s Poetry Friday roundup at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town.
A(nother) Year of Reading 
I’m enraged and numb from Renee Nicole Good’s murder, thanks for sharing her powerful, sensitive poem.
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Where is the soul? Is its piddly brook between the pancreas and the large intestine? You can’t find it with a dissection. But it’s never lost. RIP, poet.
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Thank you, Mary Lee, for giving space to this rich poem which ponders sacredness and biology, and gives us all much to think about since the killing of its author.
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As soon as I learned of this terrible news, I did search for Renee Good, to learn about her, to grieve for her children, and for all of those who will now miss her new thoughts to ponder as she shared in her poem. Missing her may be only the ledge we can stand on for now. For Renee, there must be more. Thanks for sharing these words from Renee, Mary Lee.
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She is us. I am speechless.
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I shield myself from the news, but this one reached me through the waves of poetry. A poet. A mother. Could have easily been one of my daughters. So senseless and sad. Thanks for sharing her poem here. I may read it again and again merely to praise her breath that is now gone.
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It is agony to read her delicate thoughtful words and reconcile that with the barbaric actions that took her away. Thank you so much for sharing Renee’s poem and Rajiv’s comments, which echo in a profound way.
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It is getting so I do not recognize my country any longer. Thank you for sharing her poem.
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I read Renee Good’s poem earlier today and was stunned. Thanks for honoring her by sharing the link here.
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Thank you for sharing her poem. I hadn’t read it until today. What a horrific week.
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