Poetry

June 2019 Poetry Feature: Eleanor Stanford

Four Poems By ELEANOR STANFORD

Contents

  • Everything that exists in any world exists in the actual world
  • There is nothing so far away from us as not to be part of our world
  • The world we live in is a very inclusive thing
  • “Missing” universals that ought to be possible
Sofia BelimovaJune 2019 Poetry Feature: Eleanor Stanford
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Immigrant Ditty

By VLADIMIR GANDELSMAN

Translated from Russian by OLGA LIVSHIN and ANDREW JANCO

Poem appears in both Russian and English.

 

Translators’ Note:

Born in 1948, Vladimir Gandelsman is very much the literary child of the poets of the Russian Silver Age. He draws on their dramatic, spiritually intense version of modernism, the acme, or the highest point of expression, whether meditating on fleeting moments or on major historical events. His literary parents include Pasternak and Mandelstam. Proust and Wilde are his relatives: he draws on and develops their respective fascinations with the sensuous quality of everyday life. Gandelsman’s exquisite diction and surprising collages of words help us remember our own moments of heightened feeling.

Sofia BelimovaImmigrant Ditty
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April 2019 Poetry Feature: Jessica Lanay

This April we welcome back TC contributor JESSICA LANAY for a single-author Poetry Month feature.

“First Fall”

“Mouth Piece”

“A Brief History of Shrinking”

“Dear Mountain”

“Erasure”

 

First Fall

We dampened the cool white sheets
throwing each other, knowing
we are both liars; we didn’t get
what we wanted: me—a chest

Julia PikeApril 2019 Poetry Feature: Jessica Lanay
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Philosophical Flowers

By RICHIE HOFMANN

 

The streets are named for German poets
in my huge provincial Midwestern city.
Dust whirls up from the tires of passing cars,
lifting a veil over me, like Romantic longing. On Goethe, I want nothing 
more than to reach down and feel a lover’s big skull
in my hands. On Schiller, lust subsides, among the wrought iron
doors and grand steps, lined with hundreds of dollars of candles. 
Inside, patricians mingle in the high-minded friendships
I desire for myself. About this, as so much else,
the flowers in the window-boxes on Schiller are philosophical.
Their arguments are convoluted, but concern the beauty of simplicity, freedom from need,
and, even more often, the depredations of time.
One fat peony speaks as if she were the Sybil:
“Live with your century but do not be its creature.”

Isabel MeyersPhilosophical Flowers
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About the Muses

By CATHERINE STAPLES

Some say three, others nine. Varro claimed
one was born of water, another played daylight

like wind, invisible as the airs on Caliban’s isle.
A third made a home of the human voice singing.

Dear Hesiod, perhaps it wasn’t the Muses
you glimpsed on sodden farm fields:

barefoot, sopping wet—
but just a few village girls and cousins.

Avery FarmerAbout the Muses
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