Maggie Nelson can pack a room with her prose. But anyone who can write an entire meditative book of essays on the color blue (see Bluets) is, by most definitions, a poet. Genre be damned. As Nelson puts it, “There is much to be learned from wanting something both ways.” So choice be damned, really.
Speaking of which, there’s so much good Maggie Nelson to read in the world (and on JSTOR), it’s hard to know where to start.
Here are a few suggestions:
from “SUBWAY IN MARCH, 5:45 P.M.”
I am transporting an adorable succulent
the size of an infant’s fist, holding it close as if
it were the one thing I had to keep alive
(read the rest and download the PDF for free)
from “Dailies”
Little sneaky fires
in my fingers. In my
wrinkle, the privileged one.
Groups of people
coagulate, make sounds.
They don’t want
to be called
evil. Who does. …
(read the rest and download the PDF for free)
from “A Note on Women and the New York School”
“My equal (if not superficially opposite) affinity with the insouciance of a poet like O’Hara and the drama and stringency of a poet like Plath momentarily confused me, but in the years since, I’ve come to accept this combination as natural to my ear and spirit.”
(read the essay and download the PDF for free)
