{"id":428,"date":"2012-09-11T02:00:22","date_gmt":"2012-09-11T02:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sporkpress.com\/poetry\/?p=428"},"modified":"2012-09-11T02:00:22","modified_gmt":"2012-09-11T02:00:22","slug":"4-poems-by-katherine-hollander","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/2012\/09\/11\/4-poems-by-katherine-hollander\/","title":{"rendered":"4 Poems By Katherine Hollander"},"content":{"rendered":"

Many Happy Returns<\/strong><\/p>\n

Farewell to greatness.
\nWhatever greatness was in me I think
\nwas a child\u2019s greatness.
\nAnd I have hung on longer
\nthan most, but I see now <\/p>\n

I have slept my last night in the igloo.
\nEven the blue-eyed dogs
\nhave had done with my presence,
\nand somebody has hidden
\nmy mukluks and my woman\u2019s knife.
\nThe cooper, the cook, the sail maker
\nwith his great thimble,
\nthey\u2019ve unhooked my hammock.
\nThey shake their heads. <\/p>\n

The twelve Olympians on their risers
\nhave each lowered to me
\ntheir clear, amphibian eyelid, the one
\nthey wear in all their statues.
\nOnly Hephaestus is looking at me
\nsidelong, kind but unremitting.
\nHe knows an expulsion when he feels one. <\/p>\n

But what shall I do?
\nWho shall I be?
\nI think of the businessmen,
\nconfused and angry, with their four
\nsmooth pink cakes. Happy
\nfucking birthday, indeed.
\nI\u2019ll turn around. I\u2019ll go back. <\/p>\n

_______________________________________\u2003
\nBrecht in Hollywood<\/strong><\/p>\n

On the soundstage they\u2019ve made
\nalps green with carpeting.
\nThe resting fr\u00e4uleins with their smooth
\nbraids and pale temples
\nhave big American teeth.
\nTheir lederhosen are embroidered
\nwith flowers and they wear tap shoes.
\nBut what of blonde Germany, blood-
\ngloved, sitting with her feet in the ashes?<\/p>\n

He goes about in his long coat.
\nAn actress in fox fur takes him
\nfor someone else in the street
\nand has never heard his name.
\nShe wears a diamond so clear
\nit makes him thirsty to look at it
\nand walks a Pyrenees mountain
\ndog on a gold leash. The dog\u2019s
\nnose is wet and steaming
\nlike a doused coal. And his friend,
\nthe refugee W.B., who died
\ncrossing those mountains, what of him,
\nwho took his life at the Spanish border?<\/p>\n

In the street he sees
\na white actor in red makeup
\nand a sombrero (Sancho in his poncho)
\nand follows him a while like an old knight.
\nAt the soundstage they bring the actor a donkey
\nfor his scene and Brecht
\nis reminded so cuttingly of his Svendborg study,
\nits heavy beam bearing the legend
\n\u201cTruth is concrete,\u201d and the little wooden mule
\nhung with the sign, \u201cI too must understand it.\u201d
\nIt seems there must be something true
\nbehind these illusions, but before his eyes,
\nwhich have toppled capitols, the walls hold. <\/p>\n

_______________________________________\u2003
\nDie Courage (Bravery)<\/strong><\/p>\n

Everything soft or tender,
\nbe banished. Anything that asks
\nmercy, be exiled. A hard
\ncheese, that\u2019s what you are,
\nsinewy, and with a voice
\nlike smoke over a spice grater.
\nYour caustic joy,
\ntambourine and ankle.
\nI followed you all
\nthrough the woods,
\nthrough the bogs
\nand the shining mud.
\nI followed your horse
\nwith her chestnut flank.
\nYou always had
\na chicken leg to gnaw,
\nbut you never noticed
\nhow the yellow leaves
\npasted over the fallen
\nafter they had coughed
\nand coughed and coughed.
\nYour daughter beat
\na drum in her silence.
\nFoolish woman.
\nGo find your son. <\/p>\n

_______________________________________\u2003
\nDie Hexe (The Witch)<\/strong><\/p>\n

She\u2019s here, she is here
\nthe little burning peg.
\nMarrow and plug, plug
\nand marrow. You have sought
\nher out, and knocked the brass knock,
\nyou have followed the steps
\nthat approach her front door:
\nfrom her back door, no foot
\nsteps lead. Soft on a mat
\nof gold needles, acorns
\nhide their helpless faces.
\nAnd here she is now,
\nher wand a lacquered twig.
\nHer head\u2019s half red,
\nhalf white, alight like a pudding.
\nShe eats children, drinks
\nstones? Her bed is of coals?
\nShe sleeps in an oven?
\nIs it true? You can ask.
\nHer ears are full of secrets.<\/p>\n

_______________________________________
\nKatherine Hollander<\/strong> is a poet, critic, and doctoral candidate in modern European history. Her poems and criticism have appeared in Open City, AGNI Online, Sugar House Review, Pleiades, and elsewhere. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Many Happy Returns Farewell to greatness. Whatever greatness was in me I think was a child\u2019s greatness. And I have hung on longer than most, but I see now I have slept my last night in the igloo. Even the blue-eyed dogs have had done with my presence, and somebody has hidden my mukluks and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,2],"tags":[54,85],"class_list":["post-428","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","category-things","tag-katherine-hollander","tag-poems"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/428","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=428"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/428\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=428"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=428"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=428"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}