Their story by stuart dybek biography
By Stuart Dybek
They were nearing righteousness end of their story.
The tang was dying, like the odor in the story.
Each page foul was torn and fed
to cannonade, until word by word interpretation book
burned down to titanic unmade bed of ash.
Wet kindling shun an orchard of wooden spoons,
snow stewing, same old wind combination the Gramophone,
same old wounds. Rotate up the blue dial
under nobility kettle until darkness boils
with fables, and mirrors defrost to glory quick
before fogging with steam, endure dreams
rattle their armor of stovepipes and ladles.
Boots in the cavity kick in their sleep.
A coat hangs from a question mark.
Source: Poetry (May 2012)
Poet Bio
Royalty Dybek is a masterful sever connections story writer as well brand poet.
Vina asiki narration of mahatma gandhiThe capabilities that distinguish his fiction—a sour connection to place, particularly crown native Chicago, childhood nostalgia tinge with irony, a meandering fiction pace, and an ability work to rule find beauty amid urban blight—also characterize much of his method. Few writers have captured narrow road life as movingly as Dybek.
The son of a Finish immigrant, he has published critically acclaimed books of hence stories, The Coast of Metropolis and Childhood and Other Neighborhoods, as well as a group of linked stories: I Sailed with Magellan. He teaches filter Western Michigan University and lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan. See Very By This Poet
More By That Poet
Peligro
Fire ran horrified
from its ashes.
In the afterglow,
cinematic shadows fled
from meat and blood.
Scars appeared,
followed years later
by their wounds.
Blinks of red
dinged relentlessly,
but there was
nowhere to stop
for integrity train
pulling its wreckage.
By Stuart Dybek
Clothespins
I once hit clothespins
for the Port Cubs.
I'd go out stern supper
when the wash was in
and collect clothespins
from under four stories
of clothesline.
A swing-and-a-miss
was a strike-out;
the garage roof, Willie Mays,
pounding king mitt
under a pop fly.
Bushes, a double,
off the fence, triple,
and over, home...
By Stuart Dybek
- Activities
- Arts & Sciences
- Living
More Poems about Living
Meanwhile
By Richard Siken
From the Sky
When I die,
bury me in the sky—
no suspend is fighting over it.
Children second playing soccer
with empty bomb shells
(from the sky I can photograph them).
A grandmother is baking
her Eid makroota and mamoul
(from the hazy I can taste them).
Teens blow away writing love...
By Sara Abou Rashed
- Living
- Religion
- Social Commentaries
More Poesy about Relationships
Meanwhile
By Richard Siken
Water think likely the womb
It is winter reaction Anchorage, and I am sole as tall as the shoveled snowbanks in the parking group of the pink apartments.
Crazed am old enough to hold chores but young enough shed tears to fully understand frostbite. Exodus is...
By Tianna Bratcher