poet

Chris Hosea

Chris  Hosea

Born in Princeton, New Jersey, on November 11, 1973, Chris Hosea earned an AB cum laude in English and American Literature from Harvard College. He then went on to receive his MFA from the University of Massachusetts Amherst.

His manuscript, Put Your Hands In, was selected by John Ashbery as the winner of the 2013 Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of American Poets, and was published by Louisiana State University Press in 2014.

About Put Your Hands In, Ashbery writes:

Exactly a century ago, the Armory Show brought European avant-garde art to New York. We are still experiencing its consequences. Among the works on view was Marcel Duchamp's notorious Nude Descending a Staircase, which a derisive critic wanted to rename, "Explosion in a Shingle Factory." Both titles come to mind as one reads Chris Hosea's Put Your Hands In, which somehow subsumes derision and erotic energy and comes out on top. Maybe that's because "poetry is the cruelest month," as he says, correcting T.S. Eliot. Transfixed in mid-paroxysm, the poems also remind us of Samuel Beckett's line (in Watt): "The pain not yet pleasure, the pleasure not yet pain." One feels plunged in a wave of happening that is about to crest.

Hosea is senior copywriter at H4B Chelsea and lives in Brooklyn, New York.

by this poet

poem

As we unlocked it
there was nothing
in the safe
I wanted
to embrace
someone there
so intent to record
all we saw
paying attention meant
forgetting
everyone
but you
sexy
at that age or later on
a kind of stage
your solitude
a fictive

poem

what comes next is
possible to theorize one
period emerging now
explore late ailments
see shells or pounds of ruler
also a lecture at Choate
spurred her ken for new
nests that break ice
got the germ of moribund style
what is it that Joe wants
to free poetry from

poem

The day you left
Do not leave
I cried out why
Any unsolicited female
My heart froze numb
Advertising material
My mind blank as
On this property
It were baked Alaska
Newspapers and magazines only
Vanilla noggin rocking
No dogs allowed
You stuck kiss to my