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MARIE HOWE, POET

“Marie Howe's poetry is luminous, intense, and eloquent, rooted in an abundant inner life. Her long, deep-breathing lines address the mysteries of flesh and spirit, in terms accessible only to a woman who is very much of our time and yet still in touch with the sacred.” —Stanley Kunitz

Marie Howe is the author of two volumes of poetry, The Good Thief (1998), and What the Living Do (1997), and the co-editor of a book of essays, In the Company of My Solitude: American Writing from the AIDS Pandemic (1994). Her third volume of poetry, Kingdom Of Ordinary Time is forthcoming. Stanley Kunitz selected Howe for a Lavan Younger Poets Prize from the American Academy of Poets. She has, in addition, been a fellow at the Bunting Institute at Radcliffe College and a recipient of NEA and Guggenheim fellowships. Her poems have appeared in The New Yorker, The Atlantic, Poetry, Agni, Ploughsahres, Harvard Review, and The Partisan Review, among others. Currently, Howe teaches creative writing at Sarah Lawrence College, Columbia, and New York University.

Marie Howe wowed readers and critics alike with her first book of poems, The Good Thief. Selected by Margaret Atwood as the 1989 winner of the National Poetry Series, the book explored the themes of relationship, attachment, and loss in a uniquely personal search for transcendence. Said Atwood, "Marie Howe's poetry doesn't fool around . . . these poems are intensely felt, sparely expressed, and difficult to forget; poems of obsession that transcend their own dark roots." Howe sees her work as an act of confession, or of conversation. She says simply," Poetry is telling something to someone." The Boston Globe calls her work, "a poetry of intimacy, witness, honesty, and relation."

Howe's equally acclaimed second book, What the Living Do, addressed the grief of losing a loved one. "The tentative transformation of agonizing, slow-motion loss into redemption is Howe's signal achievement in this wrenching second collection," said Publisher's Weekly, in choosing it as one of the five best volumes of poetry published that year. Part of the urgency and importance of Howe's poetry stems from its rootedness in real life—just ten minutes into her 1987 residence at the MacDowell Colony, Howe received a call from her brother John telling her that her mother had had a heart attack. Two years later, John died of AIDS, and her book What the Living Do is in large part an elegy to him. Howe's poetry is intensely intimate, and her bravery in laying bare the music of her own pain- but never the pain alone—is part of its resonance. Inside each poem there is also a joy, a new breath of life, some kind of redemption. "Each of them seems a love poem to me," says Howe.

ABOUT THE KINGDOM OF ORDINARY TIME
An anticipated new volume from Marie Howe. Hurrying through errands, attending a dying mother, helping her own child down the playground slide, the speaker in these poems wonders what is the difference between the self and the soul? The secular and the sacred? Where is the kingdom of heaven?  And how does one live in Ordinary Time—during those periods that are not apparently miraculous? These are astonishing poems by a poet known as “a truth-teller of the first order.” 

Marie Howe

©Brad Fowler

Downloadable images are in the Photo Gallery

PROLOGUE

The rules, once again applied
One loaf = one loaf.  One fish = one fish.
The so-called three kings were dead. 

And the woman who had been healed grew tired of telling
her story.
and sometimes asked her daughter to tell it.

People generally worshiped where their parents had
worshipped--
The men who’d hijacked the airplane prayed where the dead
pilots had been sitting,
and the passengers prayed from their seats
-- so many songs went up and out into the thinning air…

People, listening and watching, nodded and wept, and,
leaving the theater,
one turned to the other and said, What do you want to
do now?
And the other one said, I don’t know. What do you want
to do?

It was the Coming of Ordinary Time. First Sunday,
second Sunday.
And then (for who knows how long) it was here.