Two Poems by Hannah VanderHart
|July 4, 2012|
The Surviving Fairy Tale
An actual world; real mud with tracks in it; the mud perceived by eternity
with whom I am friends; logic’s ability
and chapter 5: the sheer cliff
wherein logic is confused and runs away; proof of analytic language; a speech
along a lonely road by an old woman whom I address as grandmother; objective
uncertainty in all things, even in the forest;
rational you; the end as sum; you calling
end beginning; you happy; goats and bridges; all things well a variant
ending of the text which otherwise simply ends.
What is Metaphysics
Metaphysics is the door to a courtroom
that you walk through to find Aquinas
beside a massage table. And he proceeds
to wash your feet although they are clean.
It is a fly’s wing. The silver branching
on the wing’s vellum. As discussed before
it is the eye prior to its loss of sight. But
also all the staring white and sightless eyes.
In a children’s illustrated Pilgrim’s Progress
Christian walks through the darkened valley
and the skulls and femurs kick up in piles
on either side his path. In this picture meta-
physics is nothing. It has shaken hands with
allegory and left. The City of Destruction
shimmers in the heat like a mirage and fades
while metaphysics, solid as a chalkboard,
scratches away at the simplest number, 1.
About the Author:
Hannah VanderHart lives by the Severn River in Annapolis, MD. She is a graduate fellow at Georgetown University, where she works with the Lannan Center for Poetics and Social Practice. She has poetry published across the US, to include Prick of the Spindle, Rock & Sling, Measure, and also in the UK (1110).
Make any cento you want! But try to make it as good as you want it to be. You don’t really want Seidel’s freedom. His poems are licensed by privilege, prestige and money — lots of all three. His deliberate transgressions look like power — to poets, any use of power looks like freedom. But I just read all Seidel’s work, straight through, and I think he’s wearing golden handcuffs.
Pale Youths in Love
I remember when I was a pre-teen and they moved into a loft across the street from me in Tribeca, where I lived. And an older neighbor friend told me they were living in her building, on the top floor. I saw him at my corner deli, and on the street smoking, but never her. At night, I sometimes looked up at their windows and saw their lights on. He was not very impressive in person. Cute, but no big deal.
What is Work?
Without a written record, we cannot know with certainty how the earliest humans thought about work, but the importance of sharing food and other resources means that prehistoric work embodied at least an element of serving the needs of a community rather than just those of an individual and his or her immediate family.
You may also like :
Once there was a man who filmed his vacation. He went flying down the river in his boat with his video camera to his eye, making a moving picture of the moving river upon which his sleek boat moved swiftly toward the end of his vacation.