Or light it speaks and its voice is Russian and imperious and twenty-six. In the box something sits perfumed and golden in its coffin of teeth and without flesh In the box something is scratching is trying to find its way into her lungs like a kind
The point of the world is to change it it says the point of the world is to make it obey. Volga gripping its banks a mine in which hard men work in the hot hot dark and it is The box is a voice like pressure from the bottom of something deep the blood-dark The box is ash sifting like flour thin snow filled with falling. The box is the dark wringing itself like a dishrag over a tub full of fingerbones sucked The box is an ark of cruel commandments shouting like a nail torn back to the quick.
Own true life still waits to live its smaller self in ever smaller ways for all the long that The story she is telling herself is this: there is this thing that was a man and only a manĪnd it cannot gnaw and gnaw through wood and cloth and flesh to take in its rotten teeth theĬandy-hard knot of self that is all she really owns.īut the box rattles gleefully in her pocket next to the place inside her chest where her She is searching for some proof that the devil is really real and really dead. Sullen on far Wilhelmstrasse where the Fuehrer’s dentist had in piety practiced because The driver is taking her to the surgery in the Reich Chancellery which squats abgefuckt and To Yelena Rzhevskaya Russian and frightened and twenty-six they are still somehowĪ mouth chattering in spastic rattles hot inside the box in the pocket of her woolen coat. The first left tooth with a window crown (also of gold). Interview with Liubov Summ, Granddaughter of YelenaĮight teeth all told broken from the skull but held together by a gold bridge married to Hands the only thing that is left of Hitler?’ Reflection in a big mirror and thought, ‘My God, am I standing here holding in my This year we received 1,076 poems from 43 states, the District of Columbia and two foreign countries. The Prize is underwritten by Tor House Foundation Board member John Varady with additional support from Honorary Board Member Allen Mears and Board member Lacy Buck. The annual Robinson Jeffers Tor House Prize for Poetry was established twenty-six years ago as a living memorial in honor of American poet Robinson Jeffers (1887-1962). We are pleased to announce that the 2022 Robinson Jeffers Tor House Prize for Poetry, an honorarium of $1,000, is awarded to: John Blairįor his poem “The Box” Honorable Mentions, each with an honorarium of $200,įor his poem “Wind Charts” Carson Colenbaughįor his poem “An Oyster Bank Outside Beaufort” Winifred Hughesįor her poem “M.I.L.F.” Final judge for the 2022 Prize was poet Forrest Gander.
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