LiKENeer Brandon Jent’s Poetry and Appalachian Resilience
As Central Appalachia once again faces the devastating impact of severe flooding, we are reminded of the resilience and interconnectedness that define our region. In this moment of crisis, we want to highlight the work of one of our own LiKENeers, Brandon Jent, whose poem Instructions for Surviving a One Thousand Year Flood has taken on even greater significance. Originally published in Still: The Journal, Brandon’s piece now serves not only as a literary achievement but as a powerful reflection on the urgent challenges our communities face today.
In “Instructions for Surviving a One Thousand Year Flood,” Brandon does not place blame on nature—the “rain” or “Earth Mother”—for the destruction. Instead, he sheds light on the broader mismanagement of the land and the human-induced factors that intensify these disasters. The poem speaks to the deep relationship between the people of Appalachia and their environment, urging us to acknowledge the vulnerabilities created by extractive industries, poor infrastructure, and systemic neglect.
Yet, even amidst destruction, Brandon’s words remind us of the enduring strength of Appalachian communities:
“We’ll stitch hearts back together like families do, make quilts of what remains like grandmothers do.”
These lines are not just poetic—they are a testament to the way our communities rally in the face of devastation. Neighbors checking on each other, volunteers distributing supplies, and families rebuilding together—this is the Appalachian spirit.
“I had actually gotten COVID for the first time the same night as the flood and felt equal parts devastated and powerless to go out into the community and help in those early days,” Brandon reflected. “On the morning of the third day post-flood, the first iteration of ‘Instructions for Surviving a One Thousand Year Flood’ just seemed to flow out of me, and I posted that very raw first draft on my personal Facebook and Instagram accounts shortly after writing it. It was the most attention I had ever gotten on a social media post, let alone on a poem of mine, with over two hundred shares and three hundred likes by people across the region and as far away as Oregon. Many Eastern Kentuckians who survived the flood alongside me reached out and told me it gave them comfort, which is the best outcome I could have asked for in sharing the piece online.
“I had never really tried to get any of my poetry published at that point, but with feedback and encouragement from fellow writers in ROMP!, a queer Southern writers group I'm a member of, I submitted that early version to Still: The Journal in spring 2023. I received my first rejection email from Still around the same time as I received an acceptance email from Hindman Settlement School to attend the Appalachian Writer’s Workshop that summer. As luck would have it, my workshop teacher was none other than Marianne Worthington, co-founder and editor of the journal. She’s an incredible Appalachian poet and educator, and I learned so much from her in those five short days. She encouraged me to keep working on this poem and the others in my manuscript, and after heavy revisions with the new tools I learned in her workshop, I submitted a new version of ‘Instructions for Surviving a One Thousand Year Flood’ for the Winter 2024 issue. It was accepted and became my first publication credit in a literary journal.
“To this day, this poem is the piece of writing I’m most proud of and always will be. To know that my words gave people in my region comfort in a time when all of us needed it most is the biggest honor, more than I could have ever asked for. At the same time, it has been a lifelong dream of mine to have my poetry published, a dream I almost gave up on. It’s icing on the cake to know it has a home in as fine a publication as Still, which has been a platform for so many talented Appalachian voices for fifteen years.”
Still: The Journal has long been a cornerstone for Appalachian storytelling, capturing the region’s complexities beyond stereotypes. Co-founded by esteemed Appalachian writers Marianne Worthington, Silas House, and Jason Howard, the journal, which published its final issue in the Fall, has amplified voices that illuminate both the beauty and struggles of life in these hills. Brandon’s poem is one such voice, resonating deeply in a time when our communities are once again grappling with loss, displacement, and the fight to rebuild.
As floodwaters recede and the long process of recovery begins, Brandon’s poem serves as both a reflection and a call to action. It asks us to consider not only how we survive these disasters, but how we prepare for and mitigate them in the future. It challenges us to advocate for policies that protect our land and communities, ensuring that resilience does not come solely from hardship but from proactive, sustainable change.
We invite you to read Brandon’s poem in Still: The Journal #44 (Winter 2024) and to engage in the vital discussions it sparks. Let us honor our region’s storytelling tradition not just by bearing witness to hardship, but by taking meaningful action to support those impacted by these floods.
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