Contributors

Quincy Troupe
Contributor History

Biography
Quincy Troupe
Quincy Troupe is the author of twenty books, including ten volumes of poetry and three children’s books. His awards include the Paterson Award for Sustained Literary Achievement, the Milt Kessler Poetry Award, three American Book Awards, the Gwendolyn Brooks Poetry Award, a Lifetime Achievement Award from Furious Flower, and the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History Award, January 25, 2018, in Detroit, Michigan. His writings have been translated into over thirty languages.

Troupe’s latest books of poems are
Seduction and a book-length poem, Ghost Voices, published by TriQuarterly/Northwestern University Press. He is coauthor, with Miles Davis, of Miles: The Autobiography, and author of Miles and Me, a chronicle of his friendship with Miles Davis, reissued in 2018 by Seven Stories Press and scheduled for release in 2020 as a major motion picture for which Mr. Troupe wrote the screenplay. Also forthcoming from Seven Stories are Duende: Poems from 1966 Until Now (fall 2020) and a memoir, The Accordion Years, in 2021.

Quincy Troupe is Professor Emeritus from the University of California, San Diego. He edits
Black Renaissance Noire, a literary and culture journal published by the Institute of African American Affairs at New York University. He lives in Harlem with his wife, Margaret Porter Troupe.

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Submissions

In Print

Vol. 82
Works & Days
Spring 2024
Bradford Morrow

Online

April 17, 2024
The sound reverberated in my sense of what was right and reliable in the world like drone weaponry, and what I wanted to ask was: what business have you left undone, and did you do a thing you so regretted that you can’t let go of it, was there a person you cut off, when sympathy would have been the better gesture, was there a person you trod on to get ahead in your sales job, speaking ill of them, so that they were forever harmed, did you say something awful about a friend in school, did you call a friend the worst of names in middle school, because it was a thing they said then, the boys did that, only to find, later on, that you loved that boy in a way . . . .
April 10, 2024
I do not like old water.

The water in the ocean is old

The lake is old

But maybe it’s not

Subject to the logic of time, of old and new.

Water.
April 3, 2024
To my beloved sense of security, it’s your perimeter
that draws its corners like a belt when it comes down
to eating frozen foods out of the ground, each unenvelopment a finer slice of skin, hooped up inside     a shuffle to which turns quicken around the other way, like Artaud said about dead bolts, skull-clangor, that rings out.
The acclaimed, genre-spanning writer reads from her work.
Monday, April 22, 2024
Campus Center, Weis Cinema