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About this poet

Mary Ruefle was born in Pennsylvania in 1952. Her father was a military officer, and she spent her early life traveling throughout the United States and Europe. She graduated from Bennington College in 1974 with a degree in literature.

Ruefle has published many books of poetry, including My Private Property (Wave Books, 2016); Trances of the Blast (Wave Books, 2013); A Little White Shadow (2006), an art book of “erasures," a variation on found poetry; The Adamant (1989), winner of the 1988 Iowa Poetry Prize; and Memling’s Veil (University of Alabama Press, 1982).

She is also the author of a book of collected lectures, Madness, Rack, and Honey (Wave Books, 2012); a book of prose, The Most of It (Wave Books, 2008); and a comic book, Go Home and Go To Bed (Pilot Books/Orange Table Comics, 2007).

About Ruefle’s poems, the poet Tony Hoagland has said, “Her work combines the spiritual desperation of Dickinson with the rhetorical virtuosity of Wallace Stevens. The result (for those with ears to hear) is a poetry at once ornate and intense; linguistically marvelous, yes, but also as visceral as anything you are likely to encounter.”

Ruefle is the recipient of numerous honors, including an Award in Literature from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, and a Whiting Award. She lives in Bennington, Vermont, and teaches in the MFA program at Vermont College.



Bibliography

Poetry
My Private Property (Wave Books, 2016)
Trances of the Blast (Wave Books, 2013)
Selected Poems (Wave Books, 2010)
Indeed I Was Pleased with the World (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2007)
A Little White Shadow (Wave Books, 2006)
Tristimania (Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 2003)
Among the Musk Ox People (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2002)
Apparition Hill (CavanKerry Press, 2001)
Post Meridian (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2000)
Cold Pluto (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1996)
The Adamant (University of Iowa Press, 1989)
Life Without Speaking (University of Alabama Press, 1987)
Memling’s Veil (University of Alabama Press, 1982)

Prose
On Imagination (Sarabande Books, 2017)
Madness, Rack, and Honey (Wave Books, 2012)
The Most of It (Wave Books, 2008)

To a Magazine

I am rejecting your request for a letter of rejection. One must reject everything in order to live. That may be true, but the rejected know another knowledge—that if they were not rejected, heaven would descend upon the earth in earthly dreams and an infinite flowering of all living forms would form a silveresque film over our sordid history, which has adventitiously progressed through violent upheavals in reaction to rejection; without rejection there would be no as-we-know-it Earth. What is our ball but a rejected stone flung from the mother lode? The rejected know that if they were nonrejected a clear cerulean blue would be the result, an endless love ever dissolving in more endless love. This is their secret, and none share it save them. They remain, therefore, the unbelieved, they remain the embodiment of heaven herself. Let others perpetuate life as we know it—that admixture, that amalgam, the happy, the sad, the profusion of all things under the sunny moon existing in a delicate balance, such as it is. Alone, the rejected walk a straight path, they enter a straight gate, they see in their dreams what no one else can see—an end to all confusion, an end to all suffering, an elysian mist of eternally good vapor. Forgive me if I have put your thoughts into words. It was the least I could do for such a comrade, whose orphaned sighs reach me in my squat hut.

From My Private Property. Copyright © 2016 by Mary Ruefle. Reprinted with permission of the author and Wave Books.

From My Private Property. Copyright © 2016 by Mary Ruefle. Reprinted with permission of the author and Wave Books.

Mary Ruefle

Mary Ruefle

The poet Mary Ruefle is the author of many books of poetry, including My Private Property (Wave Books, 2016) and Trances of the Blast (Wave Books, 2013).

by this poet

poem

From this day forward all plants
except the lemon tree
will be banished from my poems

From this day forward I am wedded to the sky

All clouds shall be banished
and my memory of them vanish
like memory itself

Not even a lime shall sneak in

Animals shall exit my poems

poem
I begin
to talk to violets.
Tears fall into my soup
and I drink them. 
Sooner or later
everyone donates something. 
I carry wood, stone, and 
hay in my head. 
The eyes of the violets
grow very wide. 
At the end of the day
I reglue the broken foot
of the china shepherd
who has put up with me.
Next door, in the
poem

It was one of those mornings the earth seemed
not to have had any rest at all, her face dour
and unrefreshed, no particular place-- subway,
park-- expressed sufficient interest in present circumstances
though flowers popped up and tokens
dropped down, deep in the turnstiles. And