1. Home
  2. Poems & Poets
  3. Browse Poems
  4. Lucky by Dorothea Tanning
Lucky

Related Poem Content Details

Ever imagining the dire, the sudden
the menace with no thought of the
gradual, the lingering itch of whatever.
That was my sister.
A stomach ache had to be diagnosed.
“Oh, come on, it’s no big deal.”
“How do you know? You aren’t me.”
 
At the doctor’s office she waited.
He reached for his stethoscope,
held it to her back and put it away
in his pocket. Then, leaning across
his desk, he asked importantly,
“How long have you been eating your hair?”
She couldn’t answer.
 
After surgery they came into the recovery
room where she had just wakened.
“You are a lucky lady. We found nothing.”
She had an incision and several visitors.
Besides, she was so lucky (incisions heal)
and not a little disgusted.
 
“Me, eating my hair.”

Dorothea Tanning, “Lucky” from Coming to That. Copyright © 2011 by Dorothea Tanning. Reprinted by permission of Graywolf Press.
Source: Coming to That (Graywolf Press, 2011)
Discover this poem's context and related poetry, articles, and media.
Lucky

Related Poem Content Details

  • Artist and writer Dorothea Tanning grew up in Galesburg, Illinois, and spent almost 30 years living in Paris, before moving to New York City. Tanning started writing poetry in her late ’80s, and her work was subsequently published in the Yale Review, the New Yorker, Poetry, and the New Republic. Her first collection of poems, A Table of Content, was published in 2004.
    The epigraph to A Table of Content comments that “it’s hard to be always the same person.” Tanning’s poems have been described as “collages, softly surreal, delicately personal” by Louis McKee of Library Journal.
    Tanning was associated with surrealism early in her career; she was married to the artist Max Ernst and was acquainted with Man Ray, George Balanchine, Truman Capote, Virgil Thompson, and Igor Stravinsky. Her artistic accomplishments included painting, printmaking, sculpture, set design, and costume design, and her work was exhibited in the Guggenheim Museum, the Metropolitan...

  • Poem Categorization

    If you disagree with this poem's categorization make a suggestion.

Other Information