Henri Cole is a really sensational poet even for people who may not think poetry can be sensational. He works for the universe and he discusses his new book of poems “Blizzard” on Bookworm.
An excerpt from “Blizzard,” by Henri Cole.
E L E V A T I O N
Pigs eat the rats that eat the corn,
and we eat the pigs and forget about this.
Life cannot shake off death.
Like a study in genteelness,
you were neatly dressed in a jacket
and trousers. Removing your coffin,
they leant it up against a wall. Things always
start out organized and get messier.
Outside, birds scattered, jip-jip and pip-pip-pip,
as some new verson of America and became itself.
Each night I dreamed the dream called elevation
in which a wondrous man sought my hand and my heart.
Then I awoke, and he departed.
Look at the flock of pigeons
flying into a thunderhead! I always feel like an elevation
when small things overmaster the great.
Blizzard Copyright © 2020 by Henri Cole. Reprinted courtesy of Macmillan Publishing.