Erin Belieu

(1967 - / Ohama / Nebraska)

Comments about Erin Belieu

  • Anthony Burkett Anthony Burkett (5/7/2014 5:17:00 PM)

    I know just how you feel Erin...From On Being Fired Again... a very liberating emotion isn't it! ? :)

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  • Sanjibsaha Aniketa Sanjibsaha Aniketa (12/22/2012 6:00:00 AM)

    I don't know whether you are aware of Indian poems & poets. I like your poems Very much.

  • Sanjibsaha Aniketa Sanjibsaha Aniketa (12/22/2012 5:59:00 AM)

    I don't know whether you are aware of Indian poems & poets. I like your poems Very much.

  • Sanjibsaha Aniketa Sanjibsaha Aniketa (12/22/2012 5:51:00 AM)

    I like your poem s very much. Looking for your next poem.

  • June Walker June Walker (5/8/2012 1:43:00 AM)

    I enjoyed reading your poem -From on being fired again in the newsletter. I particularly loved the humour.

  • William F Dougherty William F Dougherty (5/7/2012 4:59:00 PM)

    Farming memory-instruction by emulative example of thinking in images.

  • William F Dougherty William F Dougherty (5/7/2012 4:36:00 PM)

    Rondeau on the MBTA cunningly made: the startling genital smell of the bay in line one whips back to mind in the rump-up closing; the sweat and bother might suggest a hormonal humidity and ambiguity and an equine referent for bay in want (heat) in close quarters.

  • William F Dougherty William F Dougherty (5/2/2012 2:33:00 PM)

    Enter a poet to the slim minority, the bobbed tail; keep your proud/proficient rump up against the vasty wind.

Best Poem of Erin Belieu

From On Being Fired Again

I've known the pleasures of being
fired at least eleven times—

most notably by Larry who found my snood
unsuitable, another time by Jack,
whom I was sleeping with. Poor attitude,
tardiness, a contagious lack
of team spirit; I have been unmotivated

squirting perfume onto little cards,
while stocking salad bars, when stripping
covers from romance novels, their heroines
slaving on the chain gang of obsessive love—

and always the same hard candy
of shame dissolving in my throat;

handing in my apron, returning the cash-
register ...

Read the full of From On Being Fired Again

I Heart Your Dog's Head

I'm watching football, which is odd as
I hate football
in a hyperbolic and clinically revealing way,
but I hate Bill Parcells more,
because he is the illuminated manuscript
of cruel, successful men, those with the slitty eyes of ancient reptiles,
who wear their smugness like a tight white turtleneck,
and revel in their lack of empathy
for any living thing.

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