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T. S. Eliot Prize January 13, 2009

Posted by hyperboreapoetry in Noticias, Premios.
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Jen Hadfield

Hoy se anunció a la ganadora de T. S. Eliot Prize. La ganadora fue la poeta  Jen Hadfield (1978)  por su libro Nigh-No-Place.
La nota completa aquí.

Algunos de sus poemas

MELODEON ON THE ROAD HOME

I love your slut dog,
as silent with his three print spots
as a musical primer.
He sags like a melodeon
across my spread knees.
When I dig my fingers
into the butterfly hollows
in his chest, he pushes my breasts
apart with stiff legs.
Isn’t it good
to forget you’re anything but fat
and bone? I’m telling you
it’s good to be hearing your dog’s tune
on the broad curve out of town,
a poem starting,
pattering the breathless little keys.
To see more than me, I flick
the headlamps to high beam
and it’s as if I pulled an organ stop –
black light wobbling
in the wrinkles of the road,
high angelus of trees.

NO SNOW FELL ON EDEN

NO SNOW FELL ON EDEN
as i remember it – there was no snow,
so no thaw or tao as you say

no snowmelt drooled down the brae;
no human footfall swelled into that of a yeti
baring what it shoulda kept hidden;

no yellow ice choked bogbean;
there were no sheepskulls
in the midden –

it was no allotment, eden –
they had a hothouse,
an orangery, a mumbling monkey;

there was no cabbage-patch
of rich, roseate heads;
there was no innuendo

no sea, no snow
There was nothing funny
about a steaming bing of new manure.

There was nothing funny at all.
Black was not so sooty. No fishboat revolved redly
on an eyepopping sea.

Eve never sat up late drinking and crying.
Adam knew no-one who was dying.
That was yet to come, In The Beginning.

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