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About this poet

On May 21, 1962, Stacy Doris was born in Bridgeport, Connecticut. She received her AB in literature and society from Brown University and an MFA in English and creative writing from the University of Iowa.

Her books include Knot (University of Georgia Press, 2006), Cheerleader's Guide to the World: Council Book (Roof Books, 2006), Conference (Potes & Poets, 2001), Une Année à New York avec Chester (P.O.L., 2000), Paramour (Krupskaya, 2000), La vie de Chester Steven Wiener ecrite par sa femme (P.O.L., 1998), Kildare (Segue Foundation, 1994).

A translator from French and Spanish, she has co-edited anthologies of French writing in translation including Twenty One New (to North America) French Writers (1997) and Violence of the White Page (1991). She is also the translator of Dominique Fourcade's Everything Happens (2000).

Doris has also published two short books written in collaboration with visual artists: Mop Factory Incident (with Melissa Smedley; Women's Studio Workshop, 1996), and Implements (for Use) (with Anne Slacik).

About Doris's work, the poet Jackson Mac Low has said, "Doris's treatment of her themes and forms is radically different from poem to poem and most contemporary practice."

She taught at several colleges and universities including the University of Iowa and Hunter College.

Stacy Doris died on January 31, 2012.

This' Life as a GirlIn ONE-PART Harmony...

Stacy Doris, 1962 - 2012
Though idle air filtered
boundless lands
in slimy thongs mumbling
brandished the outcrop.

"Below, where we all fall
if we're not careful, listen:
Not to mount these rough, scaled
organs, offspringing serpents,
but take me.

Dearie!
The old-time love-joints,
remember, ravishing?

Unravel this vacuum.  These
huge silent estates.  Quick, now
that we're running out of cups:
Tarry flesh and foul blot
these years.  I'm asking the favor

of enjoyment,
trapped and bloodless, though
violently."


So the wounds stopped, convinced.
Cease-fire.

The up-hill way home, steep
and indecisive, edged in night,
pitched and failed.  To eager an instant,
she slipped and drained off.




Yields to air, a second time,
her transparencies and openings marvelous,
she left.


He cultivated
This rock garden.

From Paramour by Stacy Doris. Copyright © 2000 by Stacy Doris. Published by Krupskaya Books. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.

From Paramour by Stacy Doris. Copyright © 2000 by Stacy Doris. Published by Krupskaya Books. Used by permission of the publisher. All rights reserved.

Stacy Doris

Stacy Doris

Born in 1962, Stacy Doris is the author of several books of poetry and translations from French and Spanish

by this poet

poem
Though idle air filtered
boundless lands
in slimy thongs mumbling
brandished the outcrop.

"Below, where we all fall
if we're not careful, listen:
Not to mount these rough, scaled
organs, offspringing serpents,
but take me.

Dearie!
The old-time love-joints,
remember, ravishing?

Unravel this vacuum.  These
huge
poem

                  as a bird:

I flew
so high
I lost
the sky
I won
the prize.

Higher, blinder
above love
the winner
dark and galactic
affair.

The knife
darkest
broken
hit her
enters
oddly 
again, a-
gain
interred
fulfill. 

                   and as a god:

I know
the source
though hidden
dark
I
poem

If people could feed on themselves which they can, whether in despair or
Pride, time becomes a circulation, reduced and expanded to that, imitating
Digestion. Ingesting decomposes any scrap into functions, whereas eating
Something other than yourself disprove wholeness. What rewards
Rewording