Click the arrow on the audio player to hear  Henri Cole read this poem. You can also download the recording or subscribe to Slate's Poetry Podcast on iTunes.
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Their names were Victoria, Ebbenezer, Noah,
……………………………..………………........................…..Fannie, Travis, Alex, Pleasant,
William Christmas, and Jane.
.........................................Like father, they labored in exchange for small wooden houses.
Breaking even was a feat.
………………………....................Things were settled when the crops were in.
They were my ancestors and lived along the Pee Dee River,
……………………..…………...…………………..............................…….……under tupelo, oak, and gum,
where wolves made dens
………………………................….("You could smell dem wolves!").
According to the Census, they were mulatto
………….……………..…….......................………………..(Spanish mulato, small mule).
Women died of euremic poisoning.
…….…………………..................…………….Children were stillborn.
Those that lived were sprinkled on their foreheads
……………………..…….........................……………...………….and went to Sunday school,
taught by Mrs. Lillian Ingram,
………………...................…………….in Wolf Pit Township, North Carolina.
One of them wrote a poem:
………………………................…….."There in the boughs, in a tiny nest, are three baby birds
with mouths opened wide."
…………….…………..…..............….When I was born,
I weighed nine pounds of flesh.
…...…………………..................…………Mother's hair fell down
the back of her long neck.
……...………….............;;;………..Tears ran out of her eyes like animals.
Fragrant convolutions from her insides
………………….............;;;..…………..……......…filled the room with the strife of love.
Daddy was on a tour of duty.
……………………….......;.........……...."Remember you got a father," he used to say.
"You weren't born by yourself."

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