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Wednesday, November 18, 2009

NEO Poet Field Guide: Bonnie Jacobson

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Full name:  Bonnie Jacobson
Age:  76 in November, God willing
Habitat: in my head
Range:  oh the sights I’ve seen
Diet: Russell Edson, Frederick Seidel, “Moonstruck,” “Pulp Fiction”
Distinguishing Markings:   2 collections (Stopping for Time, In Joanna’s House); 
2 chapbooks (“On Being Served Apples,” “Greatest Hits”);  poems in The Iowa Review,
The Gettysburg Review, Prairie Schooner, Rattle, Runes, etc.)
Predators:   zealots, death, and the humorless
Prey:okay, so I’m a carnivore
Contact info:  bonniejacobson@att.net
Call:


           HER BODY


           When she thinks of her body she thinks of his.
           There is no distinguishing.
           Or rather, there is and is not, as in
           This is my hand and these are its fingers.
           If he were to die, and years after
           At some party or other, you
           Saw her dancing
           You would be wrong.
           She was only remembering dancing.

1 comment:

Rob said...

Thoughtful and compelling- thank you! I love the last line and the way it realigns time.

Cited...

The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau