Emily Dickinson
“This re-ordering of the
forward process of reading
is what makes her poetry
and the prose of her letters
among the most original
writing of her century”
—Susan Howe,
My Emily Dickinson
It means—total immersion
Emily Dickinson’s dash—long double-dash
Her Notebooks full of them—separating
The Letters from—the brief Notations
For me—the dashes are shortcuts
Designed to keep—her thoughts going
The reason why—Dickinson’s poems
And letters are—One Serial Poem
I admire—the Miss Havisham style
“This re-ordering of the
forward process of reading
is what makes her poetry
and the prose of her letters
among the most original
writing of her century”
—Susan Howe,
My Emily Dickinson
It means—total immersion
Emily Dickinson’s dash—long double-dash
Her Notebooks full of them—separating
The Letters from—the brief Notations
For me—the dashes are shortcuts
Designed to keep—her thoughts going
The reason why—Dickinson’s poems
And letters are—One Serial Poem
I admire—the Miss Havisham style
Living alone in Amherst—her U-Mass home
That mansion her father & brother—left her
The attached greenhouse—her Conservatory
How the hoarfrost—forms on the glass
While inside the delicate—South American orchids
Thrive in their own fractal way—along with all
The other hothouse flowers—including Emily
Robin’s egg blue—Massachusetts sky above
Cool tiles in the morning—her nightgown ways
Keeping track of what it meant—back then
Susan Howe saying—Emily was a brave poet
The thermal heat of—the humid Amherst day
The summer sun—shining down thru the glass
South American Arboretum—magic realism
How she turned it all—into syntactical ditties
That mansion her father & brother—left her
The attached greenhouse—her Conservatory
How the hoarfrost—forms on the glass
While inside the delicate—South American orchids
Thrive in their own fractal way—along with all
The other hothouse flowers—including Emily
Robin’s egg blue—Massachusetts sky above
Cool tiles in the morning—her nightgown ways
Keeping track of what it meant—back then
Susan Howe saying—Emily was a brave poet
The thermal heat of—the humid Amherst day
The summer sun—shining down thru the glass
South American Arboretum—magic realism
How she turned it all—into syntactical ditties
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