Authors: Jack Gilbert
We think of lifetimes as mostly the exceptional
We think the fire eats the wood
We think there is a sweetness concealed in the rain
We want to believe that what happens
We were talking about tent revivals
We were young incidentally, stumbling
What are we to do about loveliness? We get past
What can I do with these people?
What do they say each new morning
What if the heart does not pale as the body wanes
What is the best we leave behind?
What is the man searching for inside her blouse?
What the hell are you doing out there
When he dances of meeting Beatrice that first time
When he wakes up, a weak sun is just rising
When I hear men boast about how passionate
When I looked at the stubborn dark Buddha
When I was a child, there was an old man with
When I woke up my head was saying, “The world
When the angels found him sitting in the half light
When the hedgehogs here at night
When the King of Siam disliked a courtier
When the storm hit, I was fording the river
When we get beyond beauty and pleasure
Where the worms had opened the owl’s chest
While he was in kindergarten, everybody wanted to play
Why the mouth? Why is it the mouth we put to mouth
Woke up suddenly thinking I heard crying
Yearning inside the rejoicing. The heart’s famine
You go in from the cobbled back street
You hear yourself walking on the snow
You know I am serious about the whales
A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Gilbert is the author of five volumes of poetry. His many awards include the Yale Younger Poets prize, the National Book Critics Circle Award for Poetry, and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. His second collection,
Monolithos,
was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. He served in various countries as a lecturer for the U.S. State Department and has taught at Rikkyo University (Tokyo), San Francisco State University, Smith College, and elsewhere.
ALSO BY JACK GILBERT
The Dance Most of All
Refusing Heaven
The Great Fires
Monolithos
Views of Jeopardy