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Jorie Graham Poems
I watched them once, at dusk, on television, run, in our motel room half-way through Nebraska, quick, glittering, past beauty, past the importance of beauty.,
The Way Things Work
is by admitting or opening away. This is the simplest form of current: Blue
To A Friend Going Blind
Today, because I couldn't find the shortcut through, I had to walk this town's entire inner perimeter to find where the medieval walls break open
The slow overture of rain, each drop breaking without breaking into the next, describes
Orpheus and Eurydice
Up ahead, I know, he felt it stirring in himself already, the glance, the darting thing in the pile of rocks, already in him, there, shiny in the rubble, hissing Did you want to remain
In this blue light I can take you there, snow having made me a world of bone
Over a dock railing, I watch the minnows, thousands, swirl themselves, each a minuscule muscle, but also, without the way to create current, making of their unison (turning, re- infolding,
It has a hole in it. Not only where I concentrate.
The Guardian Angel Of The Little Utopia
Shall I move the flowers again? Shall I put them further to the left into the light? Win that fix it, will that arrange the
Le Manteau De Pascal
I have put on my great coat it is cold. It is an outer garment.
Of The Ever-Changing Agitation In The Ai...
The man held his hands to his heart as he danced. He slacked and swirled. The doorways of the little city
Spring Up, up you go, you must be introduced.
In the fairy tale the sky makes of itself a coat because it needs you to put it
The Guardian Angel Of The Private Life
All this was written on the next day's list. On which the busyness unfurled its cursive roots, pale but effective, and the long stem of the necessary, the sum of events,
Comments about Jorie Graham
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I watched them once, at dusk, on television, run,
in our motel room half-way through
Nebraska, quick, glittering, past beauty, past
the importance of beauty.,
not even hungry, not even endangered, driving deeper and deeper
into less. They leapt up falls, ladders,
and rock, tearing and leaping, a gold river,
and a blue river traveling
in opposite directions.
They would not stop, resolution of will
and helplessness, as the eye
when the image forms itself, upside-down, backward,
driving up into
the mind, and the world