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The Best American Poetry 1999 de David Lehman

The Best American Poetry 1999: The Best American Poetry

Autor David Lehman
en Limba Engleză Paperback – 8 feb 2000
Sales have escalated for THE BEST AMERICAN POETRY since the debut volume in 1988, and what has become a must for poetry lovers should stir even more excitement with Robert Bly as this year's guest editor. An award-winning poet and translator, Robert Bly is best known for his notorious role as leader of the men's movement in America and his bestselling book IRON JOHN. Bly has chosen the seventy-five best poems of the year from a host of contenders culled from a wide range of literary magazines and journals. He has selected the work of celebrated poets John Ashbery, Anne Carson, Henri Cole, Louise Gluck, Philip Levine, and Richard Wilbur, as well as poems from innovative newcomers. With comments from the poets elucidating their work and with a foreword by Series Editor David Lehman, THE BEST AMERICAN POETRY 1999 is a stunning addition to the series.
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Specificații

ISBN-13: 9780684860039
ISBN-10: 0684860031
Pagini: 224
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 15 mm
Greutate: 0.24 kg
Ediția:1999
Editura: Scribner
Colecția Scribner
Seria The Best American Poetry

Notă biografică

David Lehman, the series editor of The Best American Poetry, edited The Oxford Book of American Poetry. His books of poetry include The Morning Line, When a Woman Loves a Man, and The Daily Mirror. The most recent of his many nonfiction books is The Mysterious Romance of Murder: Crime, Detection, and the Spirit of Noir. He lives in New York City and Ithaca, New York.

Extras

DICK ALLEN

The Selfishness of the Poetry Reader

Sometimes I think I'm the only man in America

who reads poems

and who walks at night in the suburbs,

calling the moon names.

And I'm certain I'm the single man who owns

a house with bookshelves,

who drives to work without a CD player,

taking the long way, by the ocean breakers.

No one else, in all America,

quotes William Meredith verbatim,

cites Lowell over ham and eggs, and Levertov;

keepsAntiworldsandArielbeside his bed.

Sometimes I think no other man alive

is changed by poetry, has fought

as utterly as I have over "Sunday Morning"

and vowed to love those difficult as Pound.

No one else has seen a luna moth

flutter over Iowa, or watched

a woman's hand lift rainbow trout from water,

and snow fall onto Minnesota farms.

This country wide, I'm the only man

who spends his money recklessly on thin

volumes unreviewed, enjoys

the long appraising look of check-out girls.

How could another in America know why

the laundry from a window laughs,

and how plums taste, and what an auto wreck

feels like -- and craft?

I think that I'm the only man who speaks

of fur and limestone in one clotted breath;

for whom Anne Sexton plunged in Grimm;

who can't stop quoting haikus at some weekend guest.

The only man, in all America, who feeds

on something darker than his politics,

who writes in margins and who earmarks pages --

in all America, I am the only man.

fromThe Café Review

JOHN BALABAN

Story

The guy picked me up north of Santa Fe

where the red hills, dotted with piñon,

loop down from the Divide into mesas and plain.

I was standing out there

-- just me, my pack, and the gila monsters --

when he hauled his Buick off the road

in a sputter of cinders and dust.

And got out, a gray-bearded, 6-foot, 300-pounder,

who stretched and said, "Do you want to drive?"

So I drove and he told me the story of his life.

How his father was a Russian Jew

who got zapped by the Mob during Prohibition,

how he quit school at fifteen

and got a job as a DJ in Detroit,

how he sold flatware on the road and made a mint,

how he respected his wife, but didn't love her,

how he hit it big in radio and TV, how he fell in love,

how he found himself, at 50, in intensive care

with his wife, his kids, his girlfriend, and rabbi

huddled in silence about his bed

when his doctor came in and whispered

that maybe he ought to ask the wife,

and the girlfriend, to alternate visits

"because it wasn't too good for his heart."

"What about your kids?" I asked. "What do they do?"

"My daughter runs our store. My son is dead."

He studied the Rockies and didn't continue.

"What did he die of?"

"He died of suicide.

No, that's not right....Nixon killed him.

My son was a sweet kid, hated guns and violence

and then, during that fucking war, he hijacked a plane

and flew it to Cuba. He shot himself in Havana."

He watched the road, then grinned and said,

"Brave little fucker, wasn't he?"

fromVerse

COLEMAN BARKS

Bill Matthews Coming Along

(1942-1997)

They say the best French wines haveterroir,meaning the taste of the lay of the land that works through and gets held in the wine, the bouquet of a particular hillside and of the care of those who work there.

When I see Bill Matthews coming along, I see and taste the culture of the world, a lively city, a university campus during Christmas break, a few friendly straggling scholars and artists. I taste the delight of language and desire and music. I see a saint of the great impulse that takes us out at night, to the opera, to the ballgame, to a movie, to poetry, a bar of music, a bar of friends.

When I see Bill Matthews stopped at the end of a long hall, I see my soul waiting for me to catch up, patient, demanding, wanting truth no matter what, the goofiest joke, the work with words we're here to do, saying how it is with emptiness and changing love, and the unchanging. Now I see his two tall sons behind him.

Bill would not say it this way; he might even start softly hummingAmazing Graceif I began my saying, but I go on anyway: god is little g, inside out, a transparency that drenches everything you help us notice: a red blouse, those black kids crossing Amsterdam, braving the cabs, a nun. You sweet theologian, you grew new names for god: gourmet, cleaning woman, jazz, spring snow.

What fineness and finesse. I love Bill Matthews, and I did not havenearenough time walking along with him, talking books and ideas, or sitting down to drink the slant and tender face of Provence.

fromFigdust

Copyright © 1999 by David Lehman

Foreword copyright © 1999 by David Lehman

Introduction copyright © 1999 by Robert Bly

Cuprins

CONTENTS

Foreword by David Lehman

Introduction by Robert Bly

Dick Allen, "The Selfishness of the Poetry Reader"

John Balaban, "Story"

Coleman Barks, "Bill Matthews Coming Along (1942-1997)"

George Bilgere, "Catch"

Elizabeth Bishop, "Foreign-Domestic"

Chana Bloch, "Tired Sex"

Philip Booth, "Narrow Road, Presidents' Day"

John Brehm, "Sea of Faith"

Hayden Carruth, "Because I Am"

Lucille Clifton, "the mississippi river empties into the gulf"

Billy Collins, "Dharma"

Robert Creeley, "Mitch"

Lydia Davis, "Betrayal"

Debra Kang Dean, "Taproot"

Chard deNiord, "Pasternak"

Russell Edson, "Madam's Heart"

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, "A Buddha in the Woodpile"

Dan Gerber, "My Father's Fields"

Louise Glück, "Vita Nova"

Ray Gonzalez, "Breastbone"

John Haines, "The Last Election"

Donald Hall, "Smile"

Jennifer Michael Hecht, "September"

Bob Hicok, "What Would Freud Say?"

Jane Hirshfield, "The Envoy"

Tony Hoagland, "Lawrence"

John Hollander, "Beach Whispers"

Amy Holman, "Man Script"

David Ignatow, "The Story of Progress"

Gray Jacobik, "The Circle Theatre"

Josephine Jacobsen, "Last Will and Testament"

Louis Jenkins, "Two Prose Poems"

Mary Karr, "The Patient"

X.J. Kennedy, "A Curse on a Thief"

Galway Kinnell, "Why Regret?"

Carolyn Kizer, "The Erotic Philosophers"

Ron Koertge, "1989"

Yusef Komunyakaa, "Scapegoat"

William Kulik, "The Triumph of Narcissus and Aphrodite"

James Laughlin, "Nunc Dimittis"

Dorianne Laux, "The Shipfitter's Wife"

Li-Young Lee, "The Sleepless Grape"

Denise Levertov, "First Love"

Philip Levine, "The Return"

David Mamet, "A Charade"

Gigi Marks, "The Swim"

William Matthews, "Misgivings"

Wesley McNair, "The Characters of Dirty Jokes"

Czeslaw Milosz, "A Ball"

Joan Murray, From "Sonny's Hands"

Sharon Olds, "What It Meant"

Mary Oliver, "Flare"

Franco Pagnucci, "And Now"

Molly Peacock, "Say You Love Me"

David Ray, "Hemingway's Garden"

Adrienne Rich, "Seven Skins"

Alberto Rios, "Writing from Memory"

Kay Ryan, "That Will to Divest"

Sonia Sanchez, "Last recording session/for papa joe"

Revan Schendler, "The Public and the Private Spheres"

Myra Shapiro, "Longing and Wonder"

Charles Simic, "Barber College Haircut"

Louis Simpson, "A Shearling Coat"

Thomas R. Smith, "Housewarming"

Marcia Southwick, "A Star Is Born in the Eagle Nebula"

William Stafford, "Ways to Live"

Peggy Steele, "The Drunkard's Daughter"

Ruth Stone, "A Moment"

Larissa Szporluk, "Deer Crossing the Sea"

Diane Thiel, "The Minefield"

David Wagoner, "Thoreau and the Crickets"

Richard Wilbur, "This Pleasing Anxious Being"

C.K. Williams, "Archetypes"

Charles Wright, "American Twilight"

Timothy Young, "The Thread of Sunlight"

Contributors' Notes and Comments

Magazines Where the Poems Were First Published

Acknowledgments

Recenzii

PeopleA year's worth of the very best.

Descriere

Sales have escalated for THE BEST AMERICAN POETRY since the debut volume in 1988, and what has become a must for poetry lovers should stir even more excitement with Robert Bly as this year's guest editor. An award-winning poet and translator, Robert Bly is best known for his notorious role as leader of the men's movement in America and his bestselling book IRON JOHN. Bly has chosen the seventy-five best poems of the year from a host of contenders culled from a wide range of literary magazines and journals. He has selected the work of celebrated poets John Ashbery, Anne Carson, Henri Cole, Louise Gluck, Philip Levine, and Richard Wilbur, as well as poems from innovative newcomers. With comments from the poets elucidating their work and with a foreword by Series Editor David Lehman, THE BEST AMERICAN POETRY 1999 is a stunning addition to the series.