poem index


Michael Teig

Franklin , PA , United States
Printer-friendly version
Michael Teig

Michael Teig was born and raised in 1968 in Franklin, Pennsylvania. He holds a BA in English from Oberlin College and an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. His first book, Big Back Yard (BOA Editions, 2003), was selected by Stephen Dobyns to receive the inaugural A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize. Teig is a founding editor of jubilat, a twice-yearly international poetry journal. The recipient of a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts, he currently lives in Northampton, Massachusetts, where he works as a freelance writer and editor.

by this poet

Thank you for the gift. Never have I seen
a more thoughtful tea-strainer.
For you I'm striking a silent movie pose.

For instance, I step out and take in the moon
like a tourist. It puts tiny gloves on the ferns.
It's bigger than life size.

I've a room here just for sitting. If I want
I fetch some music to slap
I could stay here humming
and amuse myself with the window.

The lowing cows you cannot see.
Another month I made up. Another asterisk.

How I wrestle with the newspaper
and other people's pillows.

How I think of Albert,
for he is like the names of the days.

He walks the field
kicking a potato,
dreaming of
When he couldn't sleep and his sight got going
he noted the colors on the back of each painting;

this one forest blue, that gunpowder,
one blue to make the yellow tell,
and one bluer than that.

Certain nights only the rain will have 
its say, troubling the downspout.

When morning came
he chose a white shirt