Friday Feature: Courtney Conrad
- Jae Nichelle
- 6 days ago
- 2 min read
Courtney Conrad is a Jamaican poet. Her debut pamphlet I Am Evidence, is published by Bloodaxe Books. She’s won the Eric Gregory Award, Michael Marks Award, Bridport Prize Young Writers Award and Mslexia Women’s Pamphlet Prize. Shortlisted for The White Review Poet's Prize, the Manchester Poetry Prize, the Oxford Brookes International Poetry Competition, the Aesthetica Creative Writing Award’s Poetry Prize, the Bridport Poetry Prize, the Derby Poetry Festival Poetry Prize and the Poetry Wales Pamphlet competition. Her poems have appeared in Callaloo, Prairie Schooner, Obsidian: Literature & Arts in the African Diaspora, Poetry Review, Magma Poetry, Propel Magazine, Poetry Wales, The White Review, Stand Magazine, The Indianapolis Review, Bath Magg, Poetry Birmingham Literary Journal, Anthropocene Poetry Journal, Lumiere Review and The Adriatic Magazine. Her work has been anthologised by Anamot Press, Bridport Prize, Re.creation, Peekash Press, Bad Betty Press and Flipped Eye Press. She is currently a Cave Canem fellow and an alumna of The London Library Emerging Writers Programme, Malika's Poetry Kitchen, Barbican Young Poets, Obsidian Foundation Fellow, Griots Well Collective, Poet in the City Producers Programme, Out-Spoken Press Emerging Poets Development Scheme and Roundhouse Poetry Collective. She has performed at Glastonbury Festival, The U.S. Embassy, Brainchild Festival and UKYA City Takeover. She has been commissioned by the Museum of London, Institute of Contemporary Arts, Fuel Theatre, Apples and Snakes, Victoria & Albert Museum, Guildhall, Tate Britain, The African Centre, BBC 1Xtra, University College London Hospitals NHS Foundation Trust, Birth Rites Collection, Tommy’s, The Sidings, John's Hopkins University, The University of Warwick, Weclome Trust and Spread the Word.
Job 1:1-2:10
It’s unfortunate how pain reaches the innocent,
the way cupped hands find bald heads to slap.
I imagine Job bald and Satan’s hand in formation.
Job’s children and livestock, all dead; friends,
health, properties, all gone. Armoured loyalty
proclaims the Lord gives and takes away; still,
his name is to be praised. Mama too, hopes
in the Lord. Plants her last into the offering basket,
faithfully waiting to reap a harvest of blessings.
I would pray for Judas’ resurrection
to pickpocket on our behalf, but my faith is decrepit.
Mama says nuh worry, God always shows up on time.
While we wait for recompense, our landlord’s calculator
and outstretched palm arrive first. Mama’s hand runs
through her hair. Stress gives her enough strands for a wig.
Satan stands behind her at the ready.
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Torch Literary Arts is a 501(c)(3) nonprofit established to publish and promote creative writing by Black women. We publish contemporary writing by experienced and emerging writers alike. Programs include the Wildfire Reading Series, writing workshops, retreats, and more.
