FIELD #70 (Spring 2004)

  CONTENTS

Carl Phillips

Bright World
Translation
Turning West
A Summer

Angie Estes
Elegy
On Yellowed Velvet
Eric Torgerson
After Gaeton Picon
Marvin Bell
Ulysses, Too, Was Sometimes Down at Heart
Fred Marchant
A Place at the Table
Looking-House Stanza
V. Penelope Pelizzon
from The Monongahela Book of Hours, xi
Christopher Patton
Tammuz. Ishtar.
Karl Krolow
There's The Spring
Emptiness
Difference
Rebecca Kaiser Gibson
Global Warming
Martin Walls
Reformation
David Barber
Houdini Sutra
Elizabeth Holmes
Pregnant and Far Gone
Not Me, I'm Not
Dream Babies
Bian Zhilin
The Railway Station
Dressing Table
Bob Hicok
Lettuce
To Roanoke with Johnny Cash
Thomas Lux
To Help the Monkey Cross the River,
Flies So Thick Above the Corpses in the Rubble the Soldiers Must Use Flamethrowers to Pass Through
Myope
Uncle Dung Beetle
Guy Goffette

The Chair-Caner
O Caravels

Michael Chitwood
Spanish Needles, Beggar's-Lice, Cockleburrs
Saved
Greg Pape
Red Moon
Michael Waters
Balthus
Franz Wright
Did This Ever Happen to You
Sitting Up Late with My Father, 1977
Publication Date
Scribbled Testament
Stefi Weisburd
Chassez, My Dear
Raymond Queneau
Ideas
Kevin Prufer
Mechanical Bird
Prayer
Charles Wright
Scar Tissue

Poetry 2003: Three Review-Essays

David Young
Romanticism Rediscovered (Stanley Plumly, Argument and Song: Sources and Silences in Poetry)
Pamela Alexander
An Invasion of Flowers, A Shambles of Dogs (L. R. Berger, The Unexpected Aviary; Eric Pankey, Oracle Figures; James Galvin, X; Heather McHugh, Eyeshot; Michael Teig, Big Back Yard)
Martha Collins
Translation as News (Aharon Shabtai, J'Accuse; Saadi Youssef, Without a Country, Without a Face; Mahmoud Darwish, Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems; Venus Khoury-Ghata, She Says; Ca Dao Viet Nam; Huu Thinh, The Time Tree)

 

GLOBAL WARMING

Oona's nails are pink as abalone.
But she won't shake hands. Everyone's holding

cell phones, happy as clams,
in clenched grins. I'm calling

my twin ear, she says, they say,
to hear myself. My onion,

my own Vidalia, Slim Him says,
my yellow butternut, my sweet

potato, he laughs, specializing in vegetable
speech. Oona's smile curls

like crazy. It's always fifty-three degrees
below, Slim says, geothermally. They

are sinking in snow, knee-deep. The hemlocks
wear hulky snow jackets. Groovy

says Oona, out of date, she's in duo-
folds. It's impossible, anymore,

to say what's natural. May as well
wear feathers and skin. She's been

plucked, pruned, and brushed herself.
Oona's got a mood on.

If anyone can be anyone, we must all
be one tree, she says. Her outfit

quivers. The white fox, clenching
its own tail in its own jaw.

--Rebecca Kaiser Gibson

Copyright c 2004 by Oberlin College. May not be reproduced without permission.

 

TO HELP THE MONKEY CROSS THE RIVER,

which he must
cross, by swimming, for fruit and nuts,
to help him
I sit, with my rifle, on a platform
high in a tree, same side of the river
as the hungry monkey. How does this assist
him? When he swims for it
I look first up river: predators move faster with
the current than against it.
If a crocodile is aimed from up river to eat the monkey
and an anaconda from down river burns
with the same ambition, I do
the math, algebra, angles, rate-of-monkey,
croc and snake-speed, and if, if
it looks like the anaconda or the croc
will reach the monkey
before he attains the river's far bank,
I raise my rifle and fire
one, two, three, even four times, into the river
just behind the monkey
to hurry him up a little.
Shoot the snake, the crocodile?
They're just doing their jobs,
but the monkey, the monkey
has little hands, like a child's
and the smart ones, in a cage, can be taught to smile.

--Thomas Lux

Copyright c 2004 by Oberlin College. May not be reproduced without permission.
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