Lisel Mueller
For A Thirteenth Birthday
You have read War and Peace. Now here is Sister Carrie, Not up to Tolstoy; still It will second the real world: Predictable planes and levels, Pavement that holds you, Stairs that lift you,
Blood Oranges
In 1936, a child In Hitler’s Germany, What did I know about the war in Spain? Andalusia was a tango On a wind-up gramophone, Franco a hero’s face in the paper. No one told
Curriculum Vitae
1992 1) I was born in a Free City, near the North Sea. 2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into Confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of
What The Dog Perhaps Hears
If an inaudible whistle Blown between our lips Can send him home to us, Then silence is perhaps The sound of spiders breathing And roots mining the earth; It may be asparagus heaving, Headfirst,
A Day Like Any Other
Such insignificance: a glance At your record on the doctor’s desk Or a letter not meant for you. How could you have known? It’s not true That your life passes before you In rapid
Night Song
Among rocks, I am the loose one, Among aarows, I am the heart, Among daughters, I am the recluse, Among sons, the one who dies young. Among answers, I am the question, Between lovers,
Five For Country Music
I. Insomnia The bulb at the front door burns and burns. If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming Through another endless night. The moon knows the routine; It beats the
Immortality
In Sleeping Beauty’s castle The clock strikes one hundred years And the girl in the tower returns to the world. So do the servants in the kitchen, Who don’t even rub their eyes. The
Things
What happened is, we grew lonely Living among the things, So we gave the clock a face, The chair a back, The table four stout legs Which will never suffer fatigue. We fitted our
Why We Tell Stories
For Linda Foster I Because we used to have leaves And on damp days Our muscles feel a tug, Painful now, from when roots Pulled us into the ground And because our children believe
Moon Fishing
When the moon was full they came to the water. Some with pitchforks, some with rakes, Some with sieves and ladles, And one with a silver cup. And they fished til a traveler passed
Bedtime Story
The moon lies on the river Like a drop of oil. The children come to the banks to be healed Of their wounds and bruises. The fathers who gave them their wounds and bruises
Reading The Brothers Grimm To Jenny
Jenny, your mind commands Kingdoms of black and white: You shoulder the crow on your left, The snowbird on your right; For you the cinders part And let the lentils through, And noise falls
All Night
All night the knot in the shoelace Waits for its liberation, And the match on the table packs its head With anticipation of light. The faucet sweats out a bead of water, Which gathers
The Laughter Of Women
The laughter of women sets fire To the Halls of Injustice And the false evidence burns To a beautiful white lightness It rattles the Chambers of Congress And forces the windows wide open So