JACQUI GERMAIN

JACQUI GERMAIN (photo by Jessica Page).jpg

Jacqui Germain is a St. Louis-based poet and freelance writer who believes deeply in denim and pointy fingernails. Germain is also author of When the Ghosts Come Ashore, published in 2016 through Button Poetry/Exploding Pinecone Press. Her poetry often involves an excavation of history and memory, attempting to challenge linear assumptions of time, progress, power, and experience through an intimate lens. She currently serves a 2019 Artist Fellow with the St. Louis Regional Arts Commission, and poetry editor and contributing writer for several St. Louis publications. As a freelance journalist, her articles and essays have been published in The Nation, Pacific Standard, Broadly, NOISEY, The New Inquiry, The Establishment, Salon, and elsewhere. Germain is also author of When the Ghosts Come Ashore, and has received additional fellowships from Callaloo Creative Writing Workshop, the Poetry Foundation’s Emerging Poet’s Incubator, and Jack Jones Literary Arts.

With years of experience in student and community organizing, much of her written work explores multi-layered understandings of black, brown, and indigenous wellness and resistance work. She has led hands-on organizing and direct action efforts with student communities around a number of initiatives, supported labor organizing around workers’ rights and living wage campaigns, and contributed to grassroots organizing during the Ferguson Uprising. She believes everyone has blind spots and is constantly striving to sharpen her analysis of the world around her.


INSTAGRAM: @Jaaaaacqui
TWITTER: @JayKayG
FACEBOOK: @Jacqui.Germain

Placelessness is the place, leaving only the unsafety of flesh as a hideout. Black presences break from the margins and pierce through these hard lyrics.
— Phillip B Williams
 
When the Ghosts Come Ashore.png
With When the Ghosts Come Ashore, Jacqui Germain presents speakers haunted by American violence and speakers who haunt back, alongside the quiet vibrant solace held in the will to “still /open wide for the sun.
— Ploughshares