This past Friday, Ryan Teitman came to read his poetry to us at the Mount. I loved his poetry!
Here is one of his poems, from his book Litany for the City. It also appeared in The Diagram,Issue 9.5:
ODE, ELEGY, AUBADE, PSALM
Ryan Teitman
1
The songbird that escapes
from a burning house
will build its nest
in the shape of a cage.
The songbird that escapes
from a burning house
will build its nest
in the shape of a cage.
2
This is one thing
we know: song begs
for the places that make it
grow from seed to starling,
This is one thing
we know: song begs
for the places that make it
grow from seed to starling,
3
places that put the heart's hemlock
in an empty rowboat
and heave it from the shore.
places that put the heart's hemlock
in an empty rowboat
and heave it from the shore.
4
We only praise what we cannot
keep: violin strings berried with rain,
teacups overflowing with brandywine,
radios sickened with static.
We only praise what we cannot
keep: violin strings berried with rain,
teacups overflowing with brandywine,
radios sickened with static.
5
Glass tossed out with the tide
will come back smoother and stranger,
but never to the same person.
Glass tossed out with the tide
will come back smoother and stranger,
but never to the same person.
6
This is something we want
to know. The woman in love
never touches her ears.
This is something we want
to know. The woman in love
never touches her ears.
7
The man in his house is always lost
without her.
The man in his house is always lost
without her.
8
Morning pulls light
from the dark like a boy
hoisting a trout from the lake
by its clean, pink gills.
Morning pulls light
from the dark like a boy
hoisting a trout from the lake
by its clean, pink gills.
9
When the woman escapes
from a burning house
she will know the path of the wind,
When the woman escapes
from a burning house
she will know the path of the wind,
10
how it writes its scripture
in peach blossoms blown
into a baby's empty pram.
how it writes its scripture
in peach blossoms blown
into a baby's empty pram.
11
She'll feel it compose its words
against her body, against the night,
against the water, in an endless, artless psalm.
She'll feel it compose its words
against her body, against the night,
against the water, in an endless, artless psalm.
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