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Kay Ryan

Elephant Rocks

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The former US Poet Laureate shares “fine poems that inspire us with poetry’s greatest gifts: the music of language and the force of wisdom” (Annie Dillard, Pulitzer Prize–winning author).
Elephant Rocks, Kay Ryan’s third book of verse, shows a virtuoso practitioner at the top of her form. Engaging and secretive, provocative and profound, Ryan’s poems have generated growing excitement with their appearances in The New Yorker and other leading periodicals. Sometimes gaudily ornamental, sometimes Shaker-plain, here is verse that is compact on the page and expansive in the mind.
“Kay Ryan makes it all fresh again with her highly original vision, her elegant, quirky craft. These poems look easy, but the deeper one delves, the more they astonish and astound.” —May Sarton, New York Times–bestselling author of At Eighty-Two
“Kay Ryan works toward an exciting art, much less sparse than it looks. This is natural history seen from an angle of vision that Emerson and Dickinson would have approved. It refreshes me to find poems that require and reward rereading as much as these do.” —Harold Bloom, literary critic and author of The Bright Book of Life
“The music of these poems is every bit as seductive as their reasoning. Her thinking flaunts the plush, irresistible textures of organic growth . . . Marvelous.” —Boston Review
“These poems show a poet who is terribly sly in her reckoning of our world.” —David St. John, author of The Last Troubadour: New and Selected Poems
“So original, so astute, so pleasurable are the poems in this book, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if they’re still being read long after current critical fashions are dated.” —Poetry
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21 yazdırılmış sayfalar
Orijinal yayın
2007
Yayınlanma yılı
2007
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Alıntılar

  • Rafael Ramosalıntı yaptı7 ay önce
    n any collision, one strikes;

    the other is stricken. This

    is a given with the nano-

    calculations made possible

    through silicon.

    Earlier centuries depended

    on testimony to know

    the bender from the bent,

    and often judged an act

    by how it ended. Many bumps

    were simply abandoned to the

    morass of simultaneous action.

    Love being among them.
  • Rafael Ramosalıntı yaptı7 ay önce
    Wooden
    In the presence of supple

    goodness, some people

    grow less flexible,

    experiencing a woodenness

    they wouldn’t have thought possible.

    It is as strange and paradoxical

    as the combined suffering

    of Pinocchio and Geppetto

    if Pinocchio had turned and said,

    I can’t be human after all.
  • Rafael Ramosalıntı yaptı7 ay önce
    Distance
    The texts

    are insistent:

    it takes two points

    to make a distance.

    The cubit,

    for instance,

    is nothing

    till you use it.

    Then it is rigid

    and bracelike;

    it has actual strength.

    Something metal

    runs through

    every length—

    the very armature

    of love, perhaps.

    Only distance

    lets distance collapse.

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