Wheeling Motel: Poems

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Description

In his tenth collection of poetry, Franz Wright gives us an exquisite book of reconciliation with the past and acceptance of what may come in the future. From his earliest years, he writes in “Will,” he had “the gift of impermanence / so I would be ready, / accompanied / by a rage to prove them wrong / . . . and that I too was worthy of love.” This rage comes coupled with the poet’s own brand of love, what he calls “one / strange alone / heart’s wish / to help all / hearts.” Poetry is indeed Wright’s help, and he delivers it to us with a wry sense of the daily in America: in his wonderfully local relationship to God (whom he encounters along with a catfish in the emerald shallows of Walden Pond); in the little West Virginia motel of the title poem, on the banks of the great Ohio River, where “Tammy Wynette’s on the marquee” and he is visited by the figure of Walt Whitman, “examining the tear on a dead face.”Here, in Wheeling Motel, Wright’s poetry continues to surprise us with its frank appraisal of our soul, and with his own combustible loneliness and unstoppable joy.

Additional information

Weight 0.16 kg
Dimensions 0.81 × 14.91 × 3.78 cm
Author(s)

Format Old`

Language

Pages

112

Publisher

Year Published

2011-8-16

Imprint

Publication City/Country

USA

ISBN 10

0375711473

About The Author

Franz Wright’s recent works include Earlier Poems, God’s Silence, and The Beforelife (a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize). In 2004 his Walking to Martha’s Vineyard received the Pulitzer Prize. He has been the recipient of two National Endowment for the Arts grants, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a Whiting Fellowship, and the PEN/Voelcker Award for Poetry, among other honors. He currently lives in Waltham, Massachusetts, with his wife, the translator and writer Elizabeth Oehlkers Wright.

“These new poems refract the light of the poet’s insightful, humorous, and often humble gaze in ways that are surprising and rewarding.” —America“Uningratiating, bumptiously witty . . . and routinely surprising.” —The New York Times Book Review

Excerpt From Book

Wheeling MotelThe vast waters flow past its backyard.You can purchase a six- pack in bars!Tammy Wynette’s on the marqueea block down. It’s twenty- five years ago:you went to death, I to life, andwhich was luckier God only knows.There’s this line in an unpublished poem of yours.The river is like that,a blind familiar.The wind will die down when I say so;the leaden and lessening light onthe current.Then the moon will riselike the word reconciliation,like Walt Whitman examining the tear on a dead face.Day OneGood morning class. Todaywe’re going to be discussingthe deplorable adventuresof Franz Wright and his gory flute.Just kidding. The topic this morningis an unparaphrasable logic constructedfrom parallelisms and imagesand held together, onoccasion, by nothingbut the magical non sequitur—but the hell with that.We should really examineyour life, the one you bought,and what happened when you got homeand attempted to assemble it:that disfiguring explosionno one witnessed, no one heard,which you yourself cannot recall,and by whose unimaginable light you seekto write the name of beauty.

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