{"id":31667,"date":"2016-01-24T09:07:05","date_gmt":"2016-01-24T15:07:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/?p=31667"},"modified":"2025-10-24T08:00:57","modified_gmt":"2025-10-24T15:00:57","slug":"sunday-blog-read-jesse-parent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/sunday-blog-read-jesse-parent\/","title":{"rendered":"READ LOCAL First: Jesse Parent"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by Christopher Diaz<\/p><\/div>\n

SUNDAY BLOG READ<\/strong> is your glimpse into the working minds and hearts of Utah\u2019s literary writers. Each month, 15 Bytes offers works-in-progress and \/ or recently published work by some of the state\u2019s most celebrated and promising writers of fiction, poetry, literary non-fiction and memoir.<\/p>\n

Today poet Jesse Parent<\/strong> favors us with four of his poems which one must hear–and see performed–to experience their full exuberance and visceral appeal. Arguably the godfather of Utah Slam, Jesse has also been a fixture at the Off-Broadway Theatre’s Laughing Stock<\/a>, Utah’s longest-running improvisational troupe. You can watch a video of Jesse’s performance of the first poem featured today\u00a0here\u00a0and one of his most popular works To the Boys Who May One Day Date my Daughter<\/em>, here.<\/p>\n

So curl up with your favorite cup of joe, and enjoy Jesse Parent!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hooked Cross<\/strong><\/p>\n

Little brother,
\nlook what they’ve done to me.<\/p>\n

For millennia
\nI have woven myself into humanity’s dreams,
\nraced comet-like across their collective consciousness.
\nAs basic as a circle,
\na hooked cross.
\nA child of lines
\nand busy hands.
\nSimple. Recognizable.
\nThey called me Swastika.<\/p>\n

I was everywhere.
\nEven in the one place I wished I wasn’t.<\/p>\n

I admit I was jealous of you, little brother
\nand the star you rose up on.
\nFor I was just a hooked cross,
\nglossed over on cracked claypots,
\nand deerskin teepees,
\nhidden along with kisses on the collars
\nof Chinese children
\nironically, to protect them from evil spirits.
\nAll of Asia blended me into their backgrounds,
\nJainism, Buddhism, Hinduism.
\nI could tell you where any temple was.
\nA sun symbol.
\nA heart’s seal.
\nEternity.\u200b
\nA minor celebrity on one continent,
\na child’s absent doodle on the rest.<\/p>\n

He took me West, little brother,
\ntold me to point right and lean,
\nhold the pose.
\nShone a bright, white spotlight on me
\nwhile I danced on a red carpet.
\nThey all waved at me, little brother.
\nI got caught up in the rush
\nTo become a major celebrity.
\nIt was too late to turn back
\nThey slaughtered each other
\nunder my hooked shadow,
\nthe smoke of their flesh darkening my form.
\nI let them make me into something horrible,
\nsimple, recognizable, detestable.<\/p>\n

Humanity’s dreams no longer idly trace my form
\nin innocent doodles.
\nCountless millennia may never wash away
\nthe stench on my lines
\nno matter which way I turn.
\nA minor celebrity on one continent,
\na symbol of hatred on the rest.
\nSo many killed while I waved over them,
\ntheir murderers justifying themselves
\nby the meaning they put into my shape.
\nThey killed for me.<\/p>\n

You don’t have my hooks, little brother,
\nbut we have the same parents,
\nthe same simplicity of lines.
\nWe have had different men who have defined us,
\neven if we have both been worn by popes.
\nMy body count is well over 6 million, little brother.<\/p>\n

Pray they do not start counting up the ones
\nthat were killed for you.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

On Shaving My Father<\/strong><\/p>\n

No one comes out of bypass surgery
\nfeeling the same.
\nEven mountains erode.
\nA small avalanche can\u2019t change that this
\nis still a mountain.
\nStill my father.
\nHe may not move as confidently,
\ntesting the gravel to see what has settled
\nand what may still come loose.
\nMy mountain father,
\nstill alive and breathing the wind,
\ncreaking as autumn flows over him.
\nHis arms are felled timbers
\ntoo heavy to stand up.
\nThe black gray stubble on a land
\nhe always kept smooth and polished.
\nAs out of place as a wash over a path.<\/p>\n

To shave your own father
\nis a gentle chiseling.
\nThe shaping of a form
\nthat was always inside the rock.
\nLather as if the sheet of his face could soften.
\nMy father will always be the hills,
\nalways jagged no matter the avalanche,
\nalways rising even from his hospital bed,
\nalways breathing the wind,
\nalways breathing,
\nalways breathing,
\nI tell myself, trying not to shake,
\nto shiver,
\nto sob,
\nalways breathing,
\nI pray
\nsteadying my hand
\nas the razor scrapes stone.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

The Backyard\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

It\u2019s all chicken shit in the backyard,
\nevery footstep a crusty clod or
\na newly green spot of sour soup.
\nFollicled feathers edging the brick
\nwith dour down ditched soft
\nonto the mucking surface.<\/p>\n

There in the grass the dog has
\npissed patches of putrid earth
\ninto the retreating green yard.
\nEvery few feet a brown logy log
\nthat lays lazily lost in between
\nthe few fallow strands of heather.<\/p>\n

The kids\u2019 playground is a rotted wreck
\nof fowl feces and best intentions,
\nthe plastic slide a manured menace.
\nThe small tables and forgotten toys,
\nsuper soakers sticking sickly to the soil
\nwhile the sprinklers tinkle onto them.<\/p>\n

From the deck, I watch my daughter\u2019s dog
\nchase the chickens through the children\u2019s
\ngraveyard of tossed treasures.
\nI remember the hurried run and
\nclucking chatter of laughter that
\nhaunts this grisly garden like a ghoul.<\/p>\n

I call the dog into the sliding door
\nas the chickens peck the wired fence
\nof their run up over the akimbo frame.
\nFrom this redwood deck the scene is
\nso serene. At this distance, you can\u2019t
\neven smell it. I leave my shoes outside.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

White Jesus<\/strong><\/p>\n

Hey, everybody!
\nIt\u2019s-a me – White Jesus!
\nI\u2019ve come to break baguettes
\nand share some cab sav with some
\nof my favorite sinners!
\nYou guys!<\/p>\n

I know what you\u2019re thinking,
\n\u201cHey, White Jesus, what\u2019s with that crazy accent?\u201d
\nWell, just like the rest of White Jesus, it\u2019s vaguely
\nEuropean and depends on your frame of reference.
\nAfter all, God may have created us all in His image
\nbut White Jesus gets created in the image
\nof those who are trying to make a sale!<\/p>\n

I mean, who doesn\u2019t have a nice painting
\nof White Jesus in their homes?
\nOr a nice little sculpture
\nof yours truly with some lambs,
\nor maybe me as a baby in a manger
\nwith White Mary and White Joseph
\nand White Angels and White Shepherds
\nand some vaguely non-white Wise Men?
\nI mean they had to travel a long way
\ninto the lands of Caucasia to bring me all
\nthese smelly gifts.<\/p>\n

White Jesus just works better as a present
\nwhen he looks like the rest of the family.
\nDidn\u2019t your Grandmother say she
\ntracked your genealogy back to the
\nHouse of David?
\nJust like White Jesus, lineage is important!
\nWatch as I get nailed to your family tree
\nand you wash me white, root and stem,
\nand slake my thirst with a sponge
\nsoaked in vinegar wine
\nto sour my history.
\nTrade my sandals for Birkenstocks,
\nmy coiled hair for long auburn locks,
\nmy rough linen for white sheets,
\nI mean, who doesn\u2019t love wearing white sheets?<\/p>\n

Just like your family tree
\nI\u2019m a self portrait
\nof poor white Renaissance guys
\nwho can only afford a mirror for a model.
\nCan you imagine how great it has to feel
\nto get a whole religion to worship your image?
\nCarve all my sculptures from marble or alabaster,
\nMake me as White as Sushi Burrito or
\nGreat Harvest flatbread.<\/p>\n

Let anyone who doesn\u2019t look like White Jesus know
\nthat no matter how Christ-like they live their lives
\nthey will never look like salvation.
\nTell them about the blackness of their souls.
\nHow much can that weigh someone down?
\nGesture at all the stained glass and tell
\nthem how beautiful the light looks coming
\nthrough my creamy complexion.
\nTwist up any Bible verse you need to justify my supremacy.
\nTell them the Mark of Cain is their dark skin color.
\nShow them all the paintings of white Adam and Eve
\nas proof of your flesh\u2019s primacy.
\nI am the Exodus from Egypt.
\nThis is what Palestine probably looks like, right?
\nNo refugee ever looked like me.
\nKeep citing the fact of scripture and the evidence of illustrations.<\/p>\n

Now look at-a me, again!
\nWhite Jesus!
\nDoesn\u2019t my accent seem so much less crazy
\nin comparison to the rest of me?<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

Copyright, Jesse Parent 2016<\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>

Photo by Julia Moench-Parent<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

Jesse Parent placed 2nd at both the 2010 and 2011 Individual World Poetry Slams, was a finalist at the 2012 Ontario International Poetry Slam and 2014 Ill List Invitational Poetry Slam, and was part of the 8th place Salt City Slam teams at the 2011 and 2012 National Poetry Slams. He has been on the 2007-2014 Salt City Slam teams, has served as SlamMaster and coach for Salt City Slam, and has served on the executive council for Poetry Slam, Inc. His poetry has been featured on the Huffington Post, UpWorthy, TheBlaze.com, and TV One’s Lexus Verses and Flow. In his personal life, he has a very tolerant wife and three adorable kids. You can find out more about Jesse here<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Past featured writers in <\/em>15 Bytes\u2019 Sunday Blog Read:\u00a0Katharine Coles<\/a>, Michael McLane<\/a>, Darrell Spencer<\/a>, Larry Menlove<\/a>,Christopher Bigelow<\/a>, Shanan Ballam<\/a>, Steve Proskauer<\/a>, April Wilder<\/a>,Calvin Haul<\/a>, Lance Larsen<\/a>, Joel Long<\/a>,Lynn Kilpatrick<\/a>,Phyllis Barber<\/a>, David Hawkins<\/a>,Nancy Takacs<\/a>,Mike Dorrell<\/a>,Susan Elizabeth Howe<\/a>, Star Coulbrooke<\/a>, Brad Roghaar,<\/a>Jerry Vanleperen<\/a>,Maximilian Werner<\/a>, Markay Brown<\/a>, Natalie Young<\/a>, Michael Sowder<\/a>, andDanielle Beazer Dubrasky<\/a>,\u00a0Kevin Holdsworth<\/a>,\u00a0Jacqueline Osherow<\/a>, Stephen Carter<\/a>,\u00a0Alex Caldiero<\/a>,\u00a0Stephen Tuttle<\/a>, Raphael Dagold<\/a>, David Lee<\/a>,\u00a0Lisa Bickmore<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>and Kirstin Scott<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

SUNDAY BLOG READ is your glimpse into the working minds and hearts of Utah\u2019s literary writers. Each month, 15 Bytes offers works-in-progress and \/ or recently published work by some of the state\u2019s most celebrated and promising writers of fiction, poetry, literary non-fiction and memoir. Today poet Jesse […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1566,"featured_media":31670,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[69,35,2513],"tags":[26,2728,2729,1301],"class_list":["post-31667","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-daily-bytes","category-literary-arts","category-read-local-first","tag-15-bytes","tag-jesse-parent","tag-salt-city-slam","tag-sunday-blog-read"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/jesse-parent-2.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"publishpress_future_action":{"enabled":false,"date":"2026-08-18 00:18:19","action":"change-status","newStatus":"draft","terms":[],"taxonomy":"category","extraData":[]},"publishpress_future_workflow_manual_trigger":{"enabledWorkflows":[]},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31667","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1566"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31667"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31667\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":97402,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31667\/revisions\/97402"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/31670"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31667"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31667"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31667"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}