10th Annual Juried Reading Finalist

Kristy Bowen -- First Place

Following Pound's adage, Kristy Bowen has cut the waste marble from the figures of these muscular lyric poems; what remains is sculptural, opaque, and suggestive as beach glass. Full of fever dreams and labyrinthine tattoos, these are poems that "taste like rainstorm/ all dampness and electricity" - poems powered by elusive images, rich diction, and terse musicality, as in these lapidary lines from "Narrowing":

A staccato beat to my sternum,
Bergamot and angelica
Limitless knowledge
Ina fire fly jar.

A dynamic and daring poet, Kristy Bowen well deserves the honor of first place in a strong field that reflects Chicago's great depth of outstanding literary talent.
-- Campbell McGrath

Kristy Bowen is the author of the chapbooks Bloody Mary (Dancing Girl Press, 2004) and The Archaeologist's Daughter (forthcoming, Moon Journal Press). Her work has appeared in a number of publications, including Small Spiral Notebook, Stirring, Pedestal Magazine, Slow Trains, and After Hours. She holds an M.A. in English Literature from DePaul University, edits the online poetry journal Wicked Alice, and was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Last fall, she began coursework towards her MFA in Poetry at Columbia College.

Narrowing

Unlit rooms will ruin us,
a squall of glass slippers,
conjugation, mimesis obscured.

I study the anatomy of snow,
what it takes to solidify,
delicate fingers, myriad.
Below the waterline,
medusas diffuse,
angry and tangled.

It's the idea of emphasis--
this matters, this does not--
it separates like cream from milk.
A staccato beat to my sternum,
bergamot and angelica,
limitless knowledge
in a firefly jar.

In May, I begin
again, counting epics,
lacerated dulcimers,
pale damselfish.
The women are taunting--
Dig it up. Dig it up.

We move away, but how?

© 2004 The Poetry Center of Chicago
All Rights Revert Back to the Author Upon Publication.
No Portion of this poem may be reproduced without the expressed permission of the author.