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).
Merleau-Ponty’s Child Psychology
As much as death signals the end of the self, birth is just as mysterious. Both extend out to infinity and signal the brevity and contingency of our lives. As mysterious are those first few years of life that one does not have access to as an adult, I know I existed before my earliest memories. I know I interacted with others, I learned to walk and talk. I was willful from my parent’s tales.
William Pope.L: Reader Friendly
William Pope.L is famous for (among other things) carrying a business card that identifies him as “The Friendliest Black Artist in America.” It’s a clever gag because it makes itself true, in a way, every time it draws people closer. The card must be especially useful when Pope.L does business with people who dread Black men or Black artists.
10 Things the NSA Has Seen Me Do
One winter in my early twenties myself and some good friends — a merging of art, music and literary ladies of New York, full-grown girls aspiring to be women — got together, had a lovely dinner, some wine and delightful chat. Then we decided to spend an hour practicing “Teach Me How To Dougie”. NSA — can you teach me how to Dougie? You know why? “Because all my bitches love me.”
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Take water, evident, that feeds the seas or wind that blows and turns apathetically, the grass that grows and once again gets mowed, or us, growing larger at first, then shrinking wrinkling simplifying to nothing: always changing.