SOME JOY FOR MORNING
Now the connection with spring
has dissolved. Now that hysteria
is blooming.
Says every day I want to fly my kite.
Says what's a grammar when you is no longer you.
My world is hydrogen burning in space and in
the fullness of etc. I have read the news and
learned nothing.
I try to understand the
whooshing overhead. But for a
little light now.
I didn't realize the tree
was weeping. How was I to
know I am not alone. Wild
light.
The poems in this brilliant follow-up to the National Book Award finalist Archeophonics, are concerned with grieving, with poetry and death, with beauty and sadness, with light. As Ben Lerner has written, "Gizzi's poetry is an example of how a poet's total tonal attention can disclose new orders of sensation and meaning. His beautiful lines are full of deft archival allusion." With litany, elegy, and prose, Gizzi continues his pursuit toward a lyric of reality. Saturated with luminous detail, these original poems possess, even in their sorrowing moments, a dizzying freedom.
