ext_52714 ([identity profile] two-grey-rooms.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] greatpoetry2014-02-10 04:43 pm

request for anne carson poem + one rachel eliza griffiths poem.

would anyone who is subscribed to the new yorker be so kind as to copy and paste the new anne carson poem for me, pretty please?

and, of course, a poem for your trouble:

"Blues for Sweet Thing"
Rachel Eliza Griffiths

Whose little girl am I?
Anyone who has money to buy.
What do they call me?

--Nina Simone, "Four Women"

I'm honeysuckle.
A girl child crying
holy seven sins.

A harp & loom.
A rack of ribs.
A ribcage.

A pocket of coins
never to be spent
because my country

no longer exists. Almanac,
without page numbers

or prophecy.
For you I was sycamore,

pear, willow,
maple & bougainvillea.

For you
I was bathwater.

Gazelle, artichoke,
tulip & daffodil.

Your father's tears.

Blue fern of smoke
from a cigarette

opened by a fist
of summer rain.

For you
I was a red dress.

Teeth that glowed
under the hot bulb
of a basement party.

I was a sacrificial smile burning off
lamb's fat after midnight.

Ace & diamond.

The good time
no clock could find.

White sheet. A pearl drop earring.
Shadow wearing her mother's hat.

Birdcage. A bird who sat inside
your ears like a wound

until clarity sounded
its back-break trumpet.

A woman gone to church
with no stockings.

A woman gone to love
wearing no lingerie.

No skin either.

Your memories pulled apart
by a boll weevil's testimony.

For you
I was all these things.

I ended up
being

honeysuckle threading
a ghetto fence.

Dandelion crushed
between a cement wall.

The rapper's accessory.
A bank's vault.

I know more
about the sadness in paper

than the hands that
crush paper into clouds.

            Ghost
of magnolia.

How did I end up
being a ghost of every
nothing?

I was a sweet thing
until the moon was sobbing

along the stairwell tower
of some woman's throat.
yarrowkat: original art by Brian Froud (heart)

[personal profile] yarrowkat 2014-02-10 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
i don't have time to retype it, but here is a screenshot of her poem in this week's New Yorker, which i imagine is what you're looking for? :)

pronoun envy
yarrowkat: (birdonwriting)

[personal profile] yarrowkat 2014-02-13 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)
you're welcome!
(deleted comment)

[identity profile] nevers.livejournal.com 2014-02-11 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
thank you!