American Poetry Now: Pitt Poetry Series Anthology

Larry Levis

 4 Larry Levis Larry Levis wasborninFresno,California,in.Hisbooksof poemsincludeWreckingCrew,whichwontheUnitedStatesAwardfrom theInternationalPoetryForum;TheAfterlife,whichwontheLamontAward fromtheAmericanAcademyof Poets;TheDollmaker’sGhost,winnerof the OpenCompetitionof theNationalPoetrySeries;WinterStars;andThe Wideningof theLeaves.ThecollectionElegyandTheSelectedLeviswerepublished posthumously.AmonghisawardswerethreefellowshipsfromtheNational EndowmentfortheArts,aFulbrightFellowship,andaGuggenheim Fellowship.LevistaughtEnglishattheUniversityof Missourifromto 0,wasanassociateprofessoranddirectedthecreativewritingprogram attheUniversityof Utahfrom0to,andfromuntilhisdeath wasaprofessorof EnglishatVirginiaCommonwealthUniversity.LarryLevis diedin. Photo by Erin Seals 0 4 Larry Levis Winter Stars Myfatheroncebrokeaman’shand Overtheexhaustpipeof aJohnDeeretractor.Theman, RubénVásquez,wantedtokillhisownfather Withasharpenedfruitknife,&heheld Thecurvedtipof it,lightly,betweenhisfirst Twofingers,soitcouldslash Horizontally,&withsurprisinggrace, Acrossathroat.Itwaslikeaglintingbeakinahand, And,foramoment,thelightheldstill Onthosevines.Whenitwasover, Myfathersimplywentin&atelunch,&then,asalways, Layaloneinthedark,listeningtomusic. Henevermentionedit. Ineverunderstoodhowanyonecouldriskhislife, ThenlistentoVivaldi. Sometimes,Igooutintothisyardatnight, Andstarethroughthewetbranchesof anoak Inwinter,&realizeIamlookingatthestars Again.Athinhazeof them,shining Andpersisting. Itusedtomakemefeellighter,lookingupatthem. InCalifornia,thatlightwascloser. InaCalifornianoonewilleverseeagain, Myfatherisbeginningtodie.Something Insidehimisslowlytakingback Everyworditevergavehim. Now,if wetrytotalk,Iwatchmyfather Searchforalostsyllableasif itmight Solveeverything,&thoughhecan’tremember,now, Thewordforit,heisashamed.... If youcanthinkof themindasaplacecontinually Visited,awholecityplacedbehind Theeyes,&shining,Icanimagine,now,itsend— Aswhenthelightsgooff,onebyone, Inahotelatnight,untilatlast  4 Larry Levis Allof thetravelerswillbeasleep,oruntil Eventhethinglowfromthelobbyisakind Of sleep;&whilethewomanbehindthedesk Isapplyingmorelacquertohernails, Youcanalmostbelievethattheelevator, Asitascends,mustopenuponstarlight. Istandoutonthestreet,&donotgoin. Thatwasouragreement,atmybirth. AndforyearsIbelieved Thatwhatwentunsaidbetweenusbecameempty, Andpure,likestarlight,&thatitpersisted. Igotitallwrong. Iwoundupbelievinginwordsthewayascientist Believesincarbon,afterdeath. Tonight,I’mtalkingtoyou,father,although ItisquiethereintheMidwest,whereasmallwind, Thesizeof awrist,wakesthecoldagain— Whichmaybeallthat’sleftof you&me. WhenIlefthomeatseventeen,Ileftforgood. Thepalehazeof starsgoeson&on, Likelaughterthathasfoundafinal,silentshape Onablacksky.Itmeanseverything Itcannotsay.Look,it’semptyoutthere,&cold. Coldenoughtoreconcile Evenafather,evenason. My Story in a Late Style of Fire WheneverIlistentoBillieHoliday,Iamreminded ThatI,too,wasoncebanishedfromNewYorkCity. Notbecauseof drugsorbecauseIwasinterestingenough Foranywan,overworkedpatrolmantoworryabout— Hisexpressionusuallyagreat,gauzyspiderwebof bewilderment  4 Larry Levis Allof thetravelerswillbeasleep,oruntil Eventhethinglowfromthelobbyisakind Of sleep;&whilethewomanbehindthedesk Isapplyingmorelacquertohernails, Youcanalmostbelievethattheelevator, Asitascends,mustopenuponstarlight. Istandoutonthestreet,&donotgoin. Thatwasouragreement,atmybirth. AndforyearsIbelieved Thatwhatwentunsaidbetweenusbecameempty, Andpure,likestarlight,&thatitpersisted. Igotitallwrong. Iwoundupbelievinginwordsthewayascientist Believesincarbon,afterdeath. Tonight,I’mtalkingtoyou,father,although ItisquiethereintheMidwest,whereasmallwind, Thesizeof awrist,wakesthecoldagain— Whichmaybeallthat’sleftof you&me. WhenIlefthomeatseventeen,Ileftforgood. Thepalehazeof starsgoeson&on, Likelaughterthathasfoundafinal,silentshape Onablacksky.Itmeanseverything Itcannotsay.Look,it’semptyoutthere,&cold. Coldenoughtoreconcile Evenafather,evenason. My Story in a Late Style of Fire WheneverIlistentoBillieHoliday,Iamreminded ThatI,too,wasoncebanishedfromNewYorkCity. Notbecauseof drugsorbecauseIwasinterestingenough Foranywan,overworkedpatrolmantoworryabout— Hisexpressionusuallyagreat,gauzyspiderwebof bewilderment  4 Larry Levis Overhisface—IwasbanishedfromNewYorkCitybyawoman. Sometimes,afterwehadstoppedlaughing,Iwouldlook Ather&seeacoldnoteof sorroworpuzzlementgo Overherfaceasif someoneelsewerethere,behindit, Notlaughingatall.Wewere,Ithink,“inlove.”No,I’msure. If myhouseburneddowntomorrowmorning,&if I&mywife Andsonstoodlookingonattheflames,&if,then, Someonesteppedoutof thecrowdof bystanders Andsaidtome:“Didn’tyouonceknow...?”No.Butif Oneof theflames,risingupinthescherzoof fire,turned Allthewindowsblankwithlight,&if thatflamecouldspeak, Andif itsaidtome:“Youlovedher,didn’tyou?”I’danswer, Handsinmypockets,“Yes.”AndthenI’dletfire&misfortune Overwhelmmylife.Sometimes,rememberingthosedays, Iwatchawarm,drywindbotheringawholelineof elms Andmaplesalongastreetinthisneighborhooduntil They’reallmovingatonce,untilIfeeljustlikethem, Trembling&inunison.Noneof thismattersnow, ButIneverfeltaloneallthatyear,&if Ihadsorrows, Ialsohadlaughter,theafflictionof angels&children. Whichcansetawholehouseonfireif you’dletit.Andeventhen Youmightstilllaughtoseeallof yourbelongingssetyoufree Inonelongchoiringof flamesthatsangonlytoyou— Eitherbecausenooneelsecouldhearthem,orbecause Nooneelsewantedto.And,mostly,becausetheyknow. Theyknowsuchmusiccannotlast,&thatitwould Tearthemapartif theylistened.Inthosedays, Iwas,infact,alreadymarried,justasIamnow, Althoughtoanotherwoman.AndthatdayIcouldhavestayed InNewYork.Ihadfriendsthere.Icouldhavestrayed UpLexingtonAvenue,ordowntoThird,&caughtafaint Glisteningof theseabetweenthebuildings.ButallIwanted Wastoholdherallmorning,untilherbodywas,again, Abrightfield,oruntilwebothreachedsomethicket Asif attheendof alane,orattheendof alldesire, Andwherewecould,therefore,bealoneagain,&make Somedignityoutof loneliness.As,mostly,peoplecannotdo. BillieHoliday,whoselifewasshorter&morehumiliating Thanmyown,wouldhaveunderstoodallthis,if only  4 Larry Levis Becauseeveninherlateaddiction&herbloodstream’s Hallelujahs,she,too,sangoftenof someaffair,orsomeone Gone,&thereforepermanent.Andsometimesshesangfor Nothing,eventhen,&itisn’tanyone’sbusiness,if shedid. Thatmorning,whensheaskedmetoleave,wearingonly Theapricottinted,frayingchemise,Iwantedtostay. ButIalsowantedtogo,tolosehersuddenly,almost Fornoreason,&certainlywithoutanyexplanation. Irememberlookingdownatapairof singulartracks Madeinalightsnowthenightbefore,athowtheywere Graduallyeffacingthemselvesbeneaththetires Of themorningtraffic,&thinkingthatmyonlyotherchoice Wasfire,ashes,abandonment,solitude.Allof whichhappened Anyway,&soonafter,&bydivorce.Iknowthisisn’tmuch. ButIwantedtoexplainthislifetoyou,evenif Ihadtobecome,overtheyears,someoneelsetodoit. Youhavetothinkof mewhatyouthinkof me.Ihad Tolivemylife,evenitslate,floridstyle.Before Youjudgethis,thinkof her.Thenthinkof fire, Itslaughter,themusicof splinteringbeams&glass, Theflamesreachingthroughthesecondstoryof ahouse Almostasif to—mistakenly—rescuesomeonewho Leftyouyearsago.ItissoAmerican,fire.Solikeus. Itsdesolation.Anditseventual,brief triumph. The Oldest Living Thing in L.A. AtWilshire&SantaMonicaIsawanopossum Tryingtocrossthestreet.Itwaslate,thestreet Wasbrightlylit,theopossumwouldtake Afewstepsforward,thenbackawayfromthebreath Of movingtraffic.Peoplecomingoutof thebars Wouldapproach,asif tohelpitsomehow. Itwouldliftitsblacklips&showthem Thereddenedgums,thelongrowsof incisors, Teeththatwentallthewaybackbeyond Theflamesof Troy&Carthage,beyondsheep Grazingrock-strewnhills,fragmentsof ruins  4 Larry Levis Becauseeveninherlateaddiction&herbloodstream’s Hallelujahs,she,too,sangoftenof someaffair,orsomeone Gone,&thereforepermanent.Andsometimesshesangfor Nothing,eventhen,&itisn’tanyone’sbusiness,if shedid. Thatmorning,whensheaskedmetoleave,wearingonly Theapricottinted,frayingchemise,Iwantedtostay. ButIalsowantedtogo,tolosehersuddenly,almost Fornoreason,&certainlywithoutanyexplanation. Irememberlookingdownatapairof singulartracks Madeinalightsnowthenightbefore,athowtheywere Graduallyeffacingthemselvesbeneaththetires Of themorningtraffic,&thinkingthatmyonlyotherchoice Wasfire,ashes,abandonment,solitude.Allof whichhappened Anyway,&soonafter,&bydivorce.Iknowthisisn’tmuch. ButIwantedtoexplainthislifetoyou,evenif Ihadtobecome,overtheyears,someoneelsetodoit. Youhavetothinkof mewhatyouthinkof me.Ihad Tolivemylife,evenitslate,floridstyle.Before Youjudgethis,thinkof her.Thenthinkof fire, Itslaughter,themusicof splinteringbeams&glass, Theflamesreachingthroughthesecondstoryof ahouse Almostasif to—mistakenly—rescuesomeonewho Leftyouyearsago.ItissoAmerican,fire.Solikeus. Itsdesolation.Anditseventual,brief triumph. The Oldest Living Thing in L.A. AtWilshire&SantaMonicaIsawanopossum Tryingtocrossthestreet.Itwaslate,thestreet Wasbrightlylit,theopossumwouldtake Afewstepsforward,thenbackawayfromthebreath Of movingtraffic.Peoplecomingoutof thebars Wouldapproach,asif tohelpitsomehow. Itwouldliftitsblacklips&showthem Thereddenedgums,thelongrowsof incisors, Teeththatwentallthewaybackbeyond Theflamesof Troy&Carthage,beyondsheep Grazingrock-strewnhills,fragmentsof ruins  4 Larry Levis InthegrassatSanVitale.Itwouldbackaway Delicately&smoothly,steppingcarefully Asitalwayshad.Itcouldmanglesomeone’shand Intwentyseconds.Mangleitforgood.Itcould Severitcompletelyfromthewristinforty. Therewasnothingtobedoneforit.Someone OrotherprobablycalledtheLAPD,whothen CalledAnimalControl,whowokeadriver,who Thendressedinmailedgloves,thekindof thing Smallknightsonceworeintobattle,whogathered Togetherhispolewithanooseontheend, Alightsteelnettosnareitwith,someonewhohoped Thethingwouldhavevanishedbythetimehegotthere. The Smell of the Sea Becausetheycouldnotblindhimtwice,theydroveapencil Throughtheblindking’sear.Thepencilcouldnotbelievethething Ithadbeenaskedtodo,butbythenitwasalreadyenteringthemind, Andthereitforgotthatithadeverbeenapencil. Darknessreignedinthebasementof therecordstoreinOgden,Utah, Whereallthishappened,&therewasn’tanyking.Theotherking,theonewho Cameinthenight,wasblind&mad,&ownedarecordstore.AndwasaMormon. Sowerehisungratefuldaughterswhowouldpretendtopryhiseyesout Withkitchenspoons,&so,withinthekingdom,waseveryoneexcept TheFoolwhorepairedchainsaws&snowmobiles&thoughtof themassmall, Snarlinggodswhosefaith&hatredof treeswasperfect.Themanwhoowned therecordstorehadoncesuspectedGoddidnotexist&hadspentasummer LyingonthebeachatSantaMonicatryinghardnottobelieveinGod, Andwasunableto.Itwas.WildThingwascomingfromaradio...