Lorine Niedecker

What I think of Niedecker changes with my mood. This is from the 2002 Collected Works. Before that, as with Oppen, there were incomplete or eccentric selected editions of her work. One, From This Condensery is, according to Jenny Penberty, the editor of the collected edition, “seriously flawed”. It is also a gorgeous book and very expensive if you can find it. Another, edited by Sid Corman, The Granite Pail, is too short a selection to reveal the poet Niedecker was. I found the book today in the library, while searching for Frank O’Hara stuff. I was so excited (it had been out for years, in the hands of a talented and friendly grad student here, Karen, who was dissertating on Niedecker, and poetry and science), that I opened it up to the pages transcribed below and started reading. I love her use of rhyme, her concise music, her precise eye.

 

Lorine Niedecker  from The Collected Works

Poems 1957-1959

 

Linnaeus in Lapland

 

Nothing worth noting

except an Andromeda

with quadrangular shoots—

the boots

of the people

 

wet inside: they must swim

to the church thru the floods

or be taxed—the blossoms

from the blossoms

of the leaves

 

*

 

Fog-thick morning—

I see only

where I now walk. I carry

my clarity

with me

 

*

 

Hear

where her snow-grave is

the You

ah you

of mourning doves

 

*

 

Cricket-song—

What’s in the Times—

your name!

Fame

here

 

on my doorstep

–an evening seedy

quiet thing.

It rings

a little.

 

Musical Toys

for a blind child

 

Do you see?—

sharp spires—

you could be hurt

by the church.

Better

 

this dog

tinkling

three nice

mice

blind

 

*

 

I fear this war

will be long and painful

and who

pursue

 

it

 

*

 

No matter where you are

you are alone

and in danger—well

to hell

 

with it

 

*

 

How white the gulls

in grey weather

Soon April

the little

 

yellows

 

*

 

White

among the green pads—

which

a dead fish

or a lily?

 

*

 

Dusk—

He’s spearing from a boat—

How slippery is man

in spring

when the small fish

spawn

 

*

 

New-sawed

clean-smelling house

sweet cedar pink

flesh tint

I love you

 

*

 

My friend tree

I sawed you down

but I must attend

an older friend

the sun