Abstract

Hanif Abdurraqib is always alert to those moments when ordinary life gets inhabited by the presence of something larger. Perhaps this is why his writing on music and pop culture in the US is furnished with words like grace, mercy, prayer. Consider for instance how an otherwise ordinary domestic scene is transformed into something holy in the poem, 'When We Were 13, Jeff's Father Left the Needle Down on a Journey Record Before Leaving the House One Morning and Never Coming Back'. Abdurraqib recasts this episode from his childhood in Columbus, Ohio, in the 90s, as a religious experience, an exorcism. In the poem's climactic scene, Jeff's mother throws her wedding ring out of the window of the 'powder blue Ford Taurus',1 and instead of a gathering of the faithful sitting in church pews, as witnesses, we have 'four boys packed in/ the backseat tight like the tobacco in them cigarettes';2 and in place of a hymn, we have Journey's 1981 single, 'Don't Stop Believin''. Abdurraqib concludes the poem with an aside on music as a saving grace: and so maybe this is why grandma said a piano can coax even the most vicious of ghosts out of a body. And so maybe this is why my father would stare at the empty spaces my mother once occupied, sit me down at a baby grand and whisper play me something, child.