Category: Poetry

For my southern legitimacy statement, I'd say, my name is Pepper, which has caused me much grief living in the DC area, but made a lot of sense in my home of Mississippi, where I was born and grew up. There it was warm and unpretentious. Here it's silly and people will say things like, "what's a grown man doing with the name Pepper?"

I know that my Southern legitimacy may be marginal, having lived my whole life in a border state, but thanks to my North Carolinian grandmother, my father’s family name was Bubba, and we only ever vacationed in Morehead City. And I reckon that my hometown of Indian Head, MD had adequately Southern sensibilities. I am hopeful that my SLS effectively expresses my honest affection for the people amongst whom I grew up. Southern Legitimacy Statement: I was raised on a narrow neck of land between the Potomac River and the Mattawoman Creek, in a town where the eggs were never poached but the venison very likely had been.

MY SOUTHERN LEGITIMACY STATEMENT I was born in Lagos, Nigeria, that is the southernmost part of Nigeria, and I've always had predilection for the Southern part of any nation. I love New Mexico and Texas in America. I'm a proud southerner of the world.

A great collection of specially selected poetry.

My southern legitimacy has oft been disputed, and for this reason, I really am at a loss for words. If you can believe it, I was told "you sound like a New Yorker" and (mis)identified as the descendent of "carpetbaggers"—false, false. Perhaps there was a bed switch. Anyway these poems have pleased. And I have an MFA from Alabama

River Glistens river glistens and flows in my direction bathes me in the peace of its rippling trees lean in to canopy the shelters beavers have built against its banks a lawn of insects hover and hunt birds twitter and...

I was born and raised in and around Mobile, AL mostly but have lived all over the heart of dixie, even way up north in Anniston, Alabama. My first memories are of Tuscaloosa back when my parents were going to school and the Bear was coaching. I went to high school in the Gator country of Satsuma where it's not unheard of to see the those massive, prehistoric reptiles crawling in your backyard. I went to college at Troy before finishing up at South Alabama located in my hometown. Now, I teach English down at the very bottom of the state in Bayou La Batre where the students come to class fresh off the shrimp boats wearing their white Bayou Reeboks.

Southern Legitimacy Statement: Mark Vogel has lived in the back of a Blue Ridge holler for the past twenty two years with ducks, cats, dogs, horses, and his family. He teaches English at Appalachian State University.

SLS: I used to joke that if you looked in the dictionary under Appalachian, you would find my picture. My father was a coal miner, one of the most recognizable Appalachian occupations, for more than 35 years before lung cancer claimed him. My mother worked in a textile factory, yet another typical Appalachian occupation, until her hands gave out and she was forced to retire. I am a combination of the veins of coal and the threads of cloth that hold Appalachia together, but my parents demanded something different for me and from me. I now teach English, I write poetry and fiction, I travel as often as I can, and I am Appalachian through and through. I might not be the first image that comes to mind of an Appalachian man, but I definitely am Appalachian. I take some pride in that, and, if truth be told, in surprising people too.

True, I was born in California and grew up in Florida, which is such a melting pot that it’s not really the south—not unless you’re in Clewiston or Macclenny or Bithlo or someplace like that-- but I'm still a southern girl. I say “Bless her heart” after I say something unflattering about someone (I won’t admit to gossip), and that’s about as southern as you can get. My legitimacy honorable mentions: I had a Mawmaw and Pawpaw, I used to say “anyways,” and I still say “yall.”

Southern Legitimacy Statement: My parents are native Californians who moved to Tennessee before I was born. I married a Pennsylvanian. I can’t abide sweet tea, sweet desserts, egg salad, or chitlins. I never developed much of an accent, apart from “y’all” (with an apostrophe). The fervor of Civil War re-enactors and NASCAR fans has always puzzled me. Nevertheless. Tennessee, Alabama, Kentucky, Georgia: I have lived here all my life, and I am as much Southern as I am anything else. The South, for me, is a James Agee summer night: lightning bugs in a jar, invisible chirping crickets, everything familiar and settled, the world at relative, temporary peace. But the South is also a state of mind, a sort of vigilance, a waiting—and a fecund, green place where the strangeness and play of poems is made possible.

Southern Legitimacy Statement: Raised and fed by a Southern lady from Chattanooga, who taught me good eating and good manners. When I die and go to heaven, I’m praying the heavenly banquet will include: Fried Livermush Pintos (with pork in them) Green beans (with pork in them) Collards (with pork in them) Corn bread (with pork cracklins in it) If there is no livermush or pigs in heaven, then–if I have my ‘druthers–I reckon I’ll have to stay right here in North Carolina.

Southern Legitimacy Statement: 1] My ancestors helped settle Charleston, South Carolina. The cemeteries are filled with them. 2] Several of them are named Zorababel. That's a first name. If you were male, why then, it became Zorobabel. 3] During the Civil War my family fought for the South [one half of us -- the other half are damned Yankees]. 4] My husband's wedding present to me was a pistol. Forty years later, I still have it and we are still married. 5] My husband and I appear to share a few ancestors. I am much more excited about this than he. 6] We live on Peachtree Road, Atlanta, Georgia. Do I even need the first five?