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Overview
“Kooser . . . must be the most accessible and enjoyable major poet in America. His lines are so clear and simple.” Michael Dirda, The Washington Post
“Nothing escapes him; everything is illuminated.” Library Journal
“Will one day rank alongside of Edgar Lee Masters, Robert Frost, and William Carlos Williams.” Minneapolis Tribune
“Kooser’s ability to discover the smallest detail and render it remarkable is a rare gift.” The Bloomsbury Review
Four decades of poetryand a generous selection of new workmake up this extraordinary collection by Pulitzer Prize winner Ted Kooser. Firmly rooted in the landscapes of the Midwest, Kooser’s poetry succeeds in finding the emotional resonances within the ordinary. Kooser’s language of quiet intensity trains itself on the intricacies of human relationships, as well as the animals and objects that make up our days. As Poetry magazine said of his work, “Kooser documents the dignities, habits, and small griefs of daily life, our hunger for connection, our struggle to find balance.”
From “March 2”:
Patchy clouds and windy.
All morning our house has been flashing in and out of shade like a signal, and far across the waves of grass a neighbor’s house has answered,
offering help.
Ted Kooser is the author of eleven collections of poetry, including Delights & Shadows, which won the Pulitzer Prize. He served as the Poet Laureate of the United States, and is a visiting professor at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.
Product Details
ISBN-13: | 9781556595332 |
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Publisher: | Copper Canyon Press |
Publication date: | 05/08/2018 |
Pages: | 256 |
Sales rank: | 1,100,204 |
Product dimensions: | 5.60(w) x 8.60(h) x 1.10(d) |
About the Author
Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 2005. At present, Kooser remains one of the best-selling poets in the U.S., and has an appointment as the Presidential Professor at the University of Nebraska where he teaches courses in poetry and nonfiction writing. He continues to be an important spokesperson for poetry through his newspaper column "American Life in Poetry."
“American Life in Poetry”. He lives with his wife in Garland, Nebraska.
Hometown:
Garland, NebraskaDate of Birth:
1939Place of Birth:
Ames, IowaEducation:
B.S., Iowa State University, 1962; M.A., University of Nebraska, 1968Read an Excerpt
Selecting a Reader First, I would have her be beautiful,and walking carefully up on my poetryat the loneliest moment of an afternoon,her hair still damp at the neckfrom washing it, She should be wearinga raincoat, an old one, dirtyfrom not having money enough for the cleaners.She will take out her glasses, and therein the bookstore, she will thumbover my poems, then put the book backup on its shelf. She will say to herself,"For that kind of money, I can getmy raincoat cleaned." And she will.The Widow Lester I was too old to be married,but nobody told me,I guess they didn't care enough.How it had hurt, though, catching bouquetsall those years!Then I met Ivan, and kept himand never knew love.How his feet stunk in the bed sheets!I could have told him to wash,but I wanted to hold that stink against him.The day he dropped dead in the field.I was watching.I was hanging up sheets in the yard,and I finished.In the Basement of the Goodwill Store In musty light, in the thin brown airof damp carpet, doll heads and rust,beneath long rows of sharp footfallslike nails in a lid, an old man standstrying on glasses, lifting each pairfrom the box like a glittering fishand holding it up to the lightof a dirty bulb. Near him. a heapof enameled pans as white as skullslooms in the catacomb shadows,and old toilets with dry red throatscough up bouquets of curtain rods. You've seen him somewhere before.He's wearing the green leisure suityou threw out with the garbage,and the Christmas tie you hated,and the ventilated wingtip shoesyou found in your father's closetand wore as a joke. And the glassesthat finally fit him, through which he looks to see you looking back—two mirrors that flash and dance—are those through which one dayyou too will look down over the years,when you have grown old and thinand no longer particular,and the things you once thoughtyou were rid of foreverhave taken you back in their arms.Daddy Longlegs Here, on fine long legs springy as steel,a life rides, sealed in a small brown pillthat skims along over the basement floorwrapped up in a simple obsession.Eight legs reach out like the master ribsof a web in which some thought is caughtdead center in its own small world,a thought so far from the touch of thingsthat we can only guess at it. If mine,it would be the secret dreamof walking along across the floor of my lifewith an easy grace, and with love enoughto live on at the center of myself.The Urine Specimen In the clinic, a sun-bleached shell of stoneon the shore of the city, you enterthe last small chamber, a little closet chastened with pearl—cool, white, and glistening—and over the chilly well of the toiletyou trickle your precious sum in a cup.It's as simple as that. But the heatof this gold your body's melted and poured outinto a form begins to enthrall you,warming your hand with your flesh's feversin a terrible way. It's like holdingan organ—spleen or fatty pancreas,a lobe from your foamy brain still steamingwith worry. You know that just outsidea nurse is waiting to cool it into a geland slice it onto a microscope slidefor the doctor, who in it will read your future,wringing his hands. You lift the chalice and toastthe long life of your friend there in the mirror,who wanly smiles, but does not drink to you. EpigraphThe quarry road tumbles toward meout of the early morning darkness,lustrous with frost, an unrolled boltof softly glowing fabric, interwovenwith tiny glass beads on silver thread,the cloth spilled out and then lovinglysmoothed by my father's handas he stands behind his wooden counter(dark as these fields) at Tilden's Storeso many years ago. "Here," he says smiling,"you can make something special with this."February 16 An early morning fog. In fair weather, the shy past keeps its distance.Old loves, old regrets, old humiliationslook on from afar. They stand back under the trees.No one would think to look for them there. But in fog they come closer. You can feel themthere by the road as you slowly walk past.Still as fence posts they wait, dark and reproachful,each stepping forward in turn.March 2 Patchy clouds and windy. All morningour house has been flashing in and out of shadelike a signal, and far across the waves of grassa neighbor's house has answered,offering help. If I have to abandon this life,they tell me they'll pull me acrossin a leather harnessclipped to the telephone line.Walking on Tiptoe Long ago we quit lifting our heelslike the others—horse, dog, and tiger—though we thrill to their speedas they flee. Even the mousebearing the great weight of a nuggetof dog food is enviably graceful.There is little spring to our walk,we are so burdened with responsibility,all of the disciplinary actionsthat have fallen to us, the punishments,the killings, and all with our feetbound stiff in the skins of the conquered.But sometimes, in the early hours,we can feel what it must have been liketo be one of them, up on our toes,stealing past doors where others are sleeping,and suddenly able to see in the dark.
Table of Contents
From Sure Signs 1980
Selecting a Reader 5
First Snow 6
An Old Photograph 7
The Constellation Orion 9
The Salesman 10
Old Soldiers' Home 11
Fort Robinson 12
How to Foretell a Change in the Weather 13
Snow Fence 15
In an Old Apple Orchard 16
After the Funeral: Cleaning Out the Medicine Cabinet 17
Carrie 18
For a Friend 19
Five p.m. 20
Abandoned Farmhouse 21
At the Bait Stand 22
The Widow Lester 23
The Red Wing Church 24
From One World at a Time 1985
Flying at Night 27
In the Basement of the Goodwill Storep 28
In January, 1962 29
Father 30
The Fan in the Window 33
Daddy Longlegs 34
Goodbye 35
Laundry 36
Ladder 37
Walking at Noon near the Burlington Depot in Lincoln, Nebraska 38
At Nightfall 40
Cleaning a Bass 41
A Letter 42
The Voyager 2 Satellite 43
As the President Spoke 44
The Urine Specimen 45
Porch Swing in September 46
From The Blizzard Voices 1986
Eighteen eighty-eight, a Thursday 49
Father and I had pulled the pump up 50
My maiden name was Hanna 51
Depending where on the plains 52
I was an Ohio girl 53
Corn was at twelve cents a bushel 54
In all my years I never saw 55
So go the old stories 56
From Weather Central 1994
Étude 59
A Finding 60
An Elegy 61
Snakeskin 62
A Letter in October 63
Four Secretaries 64
Shoes 65
City Limits 66
Site 68
Surveyors 69
Another Story 71
Five-Finger Exercise 73
Sparklers 74
Old Dog in March 75
The Great-Grandparents 77
Weather Central 78
From Winter Morning Walks: One Hundred Postcards to Jim Harrison 2000
Epigraph 81
November 9 82
November 10 83
November 12 84
November 18 85
November 29 86
December 2 87
December 14 88
December 20 89
December 22 90
January 5 91
January 7 92
January 12 93
January 17 94
January 19 95
January 31 96
February 16 97
February 18 98
March 2 99
March 7 100
March 12 101
March 20 102
From Delights & Shadows 2004
Walking on Tiptoe 105
At the Cancer Clinic 106
Gyroscope 107
A Rainy Morning 108
Mourners 109
Skater 109
Mother 111
A Jar of Buttons 113
Dishwater 114
Applesauce 115
Father 116
Pearl 117
Telescope 120
A Washing of Hands 121
After Years 122
From Valentines 2008
A Heart of Gold 125
Barn Owl 126
Song of the Ironing Board 127
For You, Friend 128
A Map of the World 129
This Paper Boat 130
From Splitting an Order 2014
Splitting an Order 133
Bad News 134
Swinging from Parents 135
At Arby's, at Noon 136
Changing Drivers 137
Two 138
Opossum 139
A Visitant at Five a.m. 140
A Jonathan in Spring 141
Sundial 142
Lantern 143
A Mouse in a Trap 144
Zinc Lid 145
At a Kitchen Table 146
A Morning in Early Spring 147
Sleep Apnea 151
Deep Winter 152
New Moon 153
Painting the Barn 154
Awakening 155
From At Home 2017
Road Kill 159
Locust Trees in Late May 160
The Sick Bat 161
Croquet Ball 162
Barred Owl 163
Nine Wild Turkeys 164
A Walk with My Dog 165
Meteor Shower 167
New Poems
1
Sewing Machine 171
Putz 172
Memorial Day 173
A Bottle Collection 174
The Clipper Ship 175
Blackout 176
Goldfish 177
A Color Slide 178
Post Office 179
Ames By-Products 180
Helmet 182
By Flowing Water 183
An Antique Teacup 185
Parents 186
Death of a Dog 187
A Line in the Rain 188
2
A February Walk 191
In Early April 192
Roadside 193
Three Steps in the Grass 194
Snapping Turtle 195
A Summer Afternoon with Clouds 196
Nash 197
A Marriage 198
An Appearance 199
Walking in Fog beside a Lake 201
The Constellation 202
Turning Up the Thermostat 203
A Yellow Rope 204
Hoarfrost 205
Moon Shadows 206
December Morning 207
3
A Man on a Bridge 211
Arabesque 212
On a Windy Day 213
People We Will Never See Again 214
Passing Through 215
Laundromat 216
Landing 217
Piano 218
Smoke Rings 219
Two by the Road 220
Richard 221
Brueghel: Hunters in the Snow 222
Firewood 224
Card Trick 225
Three Shadows 226
A Long Midwinter Walk 227
Waxer 228
Index of Titles 231
Index of First Lines 234
About the Author 239