1
Stars
are the campfires
of exiles.
Language exists
to pull things
close.
*
Stop that!
Communications
are being monitored.
Collusion is forbidden.
Humanity
will be punished
with the profusion
of new jargons.
2
Inverted in glass,
a white cup
invents the underworld.
*
Fog thins
to chiffon,
nylon,
Easter.
*
In the universe next door,
I’m gone
and the shadows
of the leaves
of the elm I had pulled down
still make a fuss
over the earth.
Source: Poetry (January 2011).
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This poem originally appeared in the January 2011 issue of Poetry magazine
Rae Armantrout, one of the founding members of the West Coast group of Language poets, stands apart from other Language poets in her lyrical voice and her commitment to the interior and the domestic. Her short-lined poems are often concerned with dismantling conventions of memory, pop culture, science, and mothering, and these unsparing interrogations are often streaked with wit. “You can hold the various elements of my poems in . . .
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