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Mary Ruefle

Mary Ruefle is the author of the forthcoming book Trances of the Blast (Wave Books, 2013), Madness, Rack, and Honey: Collected Lectures (Wave Books, 2012), a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award in criticism, and Selected Poems (Wave Books, 2010), winner of the William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America. She has published ten books of poetry, a book of prose (The Most of It, Wave Books, 2008), and a comic book, Go Home and Go to Bed!, (Pilot Books/Orange Table Comics, 2007).

Jan/Feb 2019

Boutonniere

By Mary Ruefle

Standing alone after the harvest, what is the point of dreams? At some age, the world begins to drift away The world is changed as you came here The people […]

Spring 2009

New Morning

By Mary Ruefle

I smell the cream before I put it in my coffee because I never want to suffer like that again as long as I live, it was unbearable, no one […]

Winter 1993

Timberland

By Mary Ruefle

Paul’s Fish Fry in Bennington, Vermont, is no longer Closed For The Season Reason Freezin. The umbrellas have opened over the picnic tables and the bees are beginning to annoy […]

Spring 2009

Bright Enough

By Mary Ruefle

The shadow of the earth is bright enough for me The self-denial of the last Beatle is enough for me Something down, down in the terrestrial is terribly bright In […]

Spring 2009

Apologia

By Mary Ruefle

I used to love to kneel down and pray for the bud but now that the chestnuts are empty I have not combed my hair in years. The days of […]

Spring 2009

Metaphysical Blight

By Mary Ruefle

I think it was Saturday my mother was pregnant with me she could not find a place to eat the restaurants were crowded it was the Saturday before Christmas so […]

Spring 2009

One World at a Time

By Mary Ruefle

I wanted to starch my own headdress. I wanted my fingers to smell always of laundry. I wanted the sounds of my shoes to echo down the long corridors. I […]

Summer 2014

The Milkmaid

By Mary Ruefle

Milkmaids, milkmaids, their cheeks are fat and rosy, their calves are chubby and have a sheen, they carry a heavy tray, in braids and aprons they go round and round, […]

Jan/Feb 2019

Vocation

By Mary Ruefle

. . . I was saying I am terrified of swallowing an avocado pit, of having this big world growing inside me, of giving birth to a vocalization that would […]

Summer 2014

Muguet des Bois

By Mary Ruefle

I was an unopened action figure hidden inside an egg insidean ovary. The next thing I knew I was on the couch reading Madame Bovary. And when I finished I […]

Summer 2014

Pink Kisses

By Mary Ruefle

Will you be my black friend? Will you be my gay friend? Will you be my manic-depressive friend? Will you be my personal cloud, my PC friend? Do you have […]

Summer 2014

Tuna and a Play

By Mary Ruefle

Tonight we are having tuna and a play. Earlier, I picked grasses with J. Blue grass, pink grass, silver grass, we each carried a bouquet. I asked J if she […]

Summer 2014

Grandma Moses

By Mary Ruefle

Real snow glitters, so add glitter to the paint when painting snow. When the barn burns study a cat’s tongue for the shape of the flames, flames lick the air, […]

Sep/Oct 2018

Resin

By Mary Ruefle

I am going to die. No such thought has ever occurred to me since the beginning of my exclusive time in air, when God, having made my mind, first began […]

Sep/Oct 2018

Vow of Extinction

By Mary Ruefle

From this day forward all plants except the lemon tree will be banished from my poems From this day forward I am wedded to the sky All clouds shall be […]

Jan/Feb 2019

30 March

By Mary Ruefle

The daffodils came out with trumpets, announcing they would start today for the Holy Grail. Poor things! Poor things! If it is to be, I plan to watch. Barefoot shivering […]