Sunday, January 23, 2011

"Remote," by Rae Armantrout

I've been trying to get people to read her work for a while. Next Life is a consistently enjoyable book and is where I'd start (at least it's where I started). I once flippantly described her work as a salad bowl rather than a melting pot of words; this interview gives you a sense of what her approach is. The poem below is, like, her most coherent; but it's a little uncharacteristic and she doesn't seem to know what to do with the ending.

Rae Armantrout

The breath coming
to rest

like a small frog
at the bottom of a fish tank,

then darting up to surface

is mine?


Remote and, by now, automated
distress calls fill the air.


Do you believe this?

shifts a small weight
there and back.

My self-reflection shames God
into watching

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

its certainly different. ;-)
thanks for sharing.