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The Naked Man in the Glass Elevator Rising above our perplexity perhaps he remembers the smiles of nuns, their dusty spectacles, or Artemis, whose milk fed the gazelle at her clustered breasts– snowy grapes. So we too love ballerinas and the one wild boy in sea-blue tights who leaps like a dolphin and there is not much more we can say about the naked man in the glass elevator. He rose like the sun. He descended. Conventions clothe us and then we part. Lois Marie Harrod's chapbook Furniture won the 2008 Grayson Press Poetry Prize. Previous publications include the chapbook Firmament (2007); the chapbook Put Your Sorry Side Out (2005); Spelling the World Backward (2000); the chapbook This Is a Story You Already Know (l999); Part of the Deeper Sea (1997); the chapbook Green Snake Riding (l994), Crazy Alice (l991) Every Twinge a Verdict (l987). She won her third poetry fellowship from the New Jersey Council on the Arts in 2003. Over 350 of her poems have appeared in journals including American Poetry Review, Blueline, The MacGuffin, Salt, The Literary Review, Zone3. Seven-time nominee for a Pushcart Prize, she teaches Creative Writing at The College of New Jersey. next table of contents |
