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occasions

About this poet

Erika Meitner was born and raised in Queens and Long Island, New York. She received her AB in creative writing from Dartmouth College and an MA in religious studies and an MFA in creative writing from the University of Virginia.

Meitner is the author of four books of poems: Copia (BOA Editions, 2014); Makeshift Instructions for Vigilant Girls (Anhinga Press, 2011); Ideal Cities (Anhinga Press, 2010), winner of the 2009 National Poetry Series; and Inventory at the All-Night Drugstore (Anhinga Press, 2003), winner of the 2002 Anhinga-Robert Dana Prize for Poetry.

She is the recipient of fellowships from The MacDowell Colony, the Virginia Center for Creative Arts, and the Sewanee Writers’ Conference, among others. Meitner is an associate professor of English and director of the creative writing MFA program at Virginia Tech.


Bibliography

Copia (BOA Editions, 2014)
Makeshift Instructions for Vigilant Girls (Anhinga Press, 2011)
Ideal Cities (Anhinga Press, 2010)
Inventory at the All-Night Drugstore (Anhinga Press, 2003)

Untitled [and the moon once it stopped was sleeping]

and the moon         once it stopped         was sleeping

in the cold blue light          and the moon          while the wind snapped

vinyl siding apart          slipped around corners          whipped the neighbors'

carefully patterned bunchgrass          our snow-filled vegetable boxes

the house unjoining              the moon       our yard strips          covered with

hollow shells          of hard remnants               ice      and my son's breath

contiguous               static          a shard of green light          on the monitor

wavers with coughs                     the Baptist church                     in Catawba

the only place lit up          down the mountain          past midnight, someone

waving their hands             at something          so quiet              you can hear

the wind tear          at the houses          you can hear          the neighbor

coming home          though he's .18 acres          away          it's too late

for that feeling          (possibility)          the night       always   held

the wind                   is at it                    again            cracking

paint            on the walls              one day          it will            unroot us

one day        the wind        will tally        our losses

but        not yet             the moon        not yet

Copyright © 2011 by Erika Meitner. Used with permission of the author.

Copyright © 2011 by Erika Meitner. Used with permission of the author.

Erika Meitner

Erika Meitner

Erika Meitner is the author of four books of poems: Copia (BOA Editions, 2014); Makeshift Instructions for Vigilant Girls (Anhinga Press, 2011); Ideal Cities (Anhinga Press, 2010), winner of the 2009 National Poetry Series; and Inventory at the All-Night Drugstore (Anhinga Press, 2003).

by this poet

poem

after Anthony Haughey’s “Settlement”

              Garden of rock.
Garden of brick and heather.
              Garden of cranes with their hands raised
as if they know the yellow answer:
              to gather together—safety in numbers.
Garden of drywall frames, holes for

2
poem
You ask about the leaves and I tell you it’s been so dry here
the leaves are just giving up, turning brown, falling off the trees,
 
which all look dead. This might be a metaphor for the election or
might be a metaphor for nothing—it’s hard to say. Each morning
poem

Hand-painted on the side
of a shack we pass
on the road to Ohio:
what this world comin to?

This is not haiku. This
is more like fog and we’re
socked in and your body

is invisible and right
across from me
simultaneously.

How much ammo you got