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X. J. Kennedy: succinct epigrammatic verse from an American poet
His Counter/Measures journal anticipated the New Formalist movement in American poetry
- Nude Descending a Staircase
- Toe after toe, a snowing flesh,
- a gold of lemon, root and rind,
- she sifts in sunlight down the stairs
- with nothing on. Nor on her mind.
- We spy beneath the banister
- a constant thresh of thigh on thigh;
- her lips imprint the swinging air
- that parts to let her parts go by.
- One-woman waterfall, she wears
- her slow descent like a long cape
- and pausing on the final stair,
- collects her motions into shape.
- For Allen Ginsberg
- Ginsberg, Ginsberg, burning bright,
- Taunter of the ultra right,
- What blink of the Buddha’s eye
- Chose the day for you to die?
- Queer pied piper, howling wild,
- Mantra-minded flower child,
- Queen of Maytime, misrule’s lord
- Bawling, Drop out! All aboard!
- Finger-cymbaled, chanting Om,
- Foe of fascist, bane of bomb,
- Proper poets’ thorn-in-side,
- Turner of a whole time’s tide,
- Who can fill your sloppy shoes?
- What a catch for Death. We lose
- Glee and sweetness, freaky light,
- Ginsberg, Ginsberg, burning bright.
- Old Men Pitching Horseshoes
- Back in a yard where ringers groove a ditch,
- These four in shirtsleeves congregate to pitch
- Dirt-burnished iron. With appraising eye,
- One sizes up a peg, hoists and lets fly—
- A clang resounds as though a smith had struck
- Fire from a forge. His first blow, out of luck,
- Rattles in circles. Hitching up his face,
- He swings, and weight once more inhabits space,
- Tumbles as gently as a new-laid egg.
- Extended iron arms surround their peg
- Like one come home to greet a long-lost brother.
- Shouts from one outpost. Mutters from the other.
- Now changing sides, each withered pitcher moves
- As his considered dignity behooves
- Down the worn path of earth where August flies
- And sheaves of air in warm distortions rise,
- To stand ground, fling, kick dust with all the force
- Of shoes still hammered to a living horse.
X.J. Kennedy
X. J. Kennedy is an American poet, born in Dover, NJ, and is best known for his succinct epigrammatic verse, which can be in turns witty or introspective. Besides poetry, Kennedy has also published translations, anthologies, children’s literature, and textbooks on literature and verse. With his wife Dorothy, Kennedy began publishing and editing Counter/Measures, a literary journal which in many ways anticipated the New Formalist movement in American poetry. After serving in the U.S. Navy as a journalist, Kennedy took up various high-profile positions in the literary world, including poetry editor of The Paris Review. He has been a freelance writer since 1978.
Here's something you might be interested in.
X. J. Kennedy: succinct epigrammatic verse from an American poet
His Counter/Measures journal anticipated the New Formalist movement in American poetry
X. J. Kennedy: succinct epigrammatic verse from an American poet
His Counter/Measures journal anticipated the New Formalist movement in American poetry
- Nude Descending a Staircase
- Toe after toe, a snowing flesh,
- a gold of lemon, root and rind,
- she sifts in sunlight down the stairs
- with nothing on. Nor on her mind.
- We spy beneath the banister
- a constant thresh of thigh on thigh;
- her lips imprint the swinging air
- that parts to let her parts go by.
- One-woman waterfall, she wears
- her slow descent like a long cape
- and pausing on the final stair,
- collects her motions into shape.
- For Allen Ginsberg
- Ginsberg, Ginsberg, burning bright,
- Taunter of the ultra right,
- What blink of the Buddha’s eye
- Chose the day for you to die?
- Queer pied piper, howling wild,
- Mantra-minded flower child,
- Queen of Maytime, misrule’s lord
- Bawling, Drop out! All aboard!
- Finger-cymbaled, chanting Om,
- Foe of fascist, bane of bomb,
- Proper poets’ thorn-in-side,
- Turner of a whole time’s tide,
- Who can fill your sloppy shoes?
- What a catch for Death. We lose
- Glee and sweetness, freaky light,
- Ginsberg, Ginsberg, burning bright.
- Old Men Pitching Horseshoes
- Back in a yard where ringers groove a ditch,
- These four in shirtsleeves congregate to pitch
- Dirt-burnished iron. With appraising eye,
- One sizes up a peg, hoists and lets fly—
- A clang resounds as though a smith had struck
- Fire from a forge. His first blow, out of luck,
- Rattles in circles. Hitching up his face,
- He swings, and weight once more inhabits space,
- Tumbles as gently as a new-laid egg.
- Extended iron arms surround their peg
- Like one come home to greet a long-lost brother.
- Shouts from one outpost. Mutters from the other.
- Now changing sides, each withered pitcher moves
- As his considered dignity behooves
- Down the worn path of earth where August flies
- And sheaves of air in warm distortions rise,
- To stand ground, fling, kick dust with all the force
- Of shoes still hammered to a living horse.
X.J. Kennedy
X. J. Kennedy is an American poet, born in Dover, NJ, and is best known for his succinct epigrammatic verse, which can be in turns witty or introspective. Besides poetry, Kennedy has also published translations, anthologies, children’s literature, and textbooks on literature and verse. With his wife Dorothy, Kennedy began publishing and editing Counter/Measures, a literary journal which in many ways anticipated the New Formalist movement in American poetry. After serving in the U.S. Navy as a journalist, Kennedy took up various high-profile positions in the literary world, including poetry editor of The Paris Review. He has been a freelance writer since 1978.
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