Strand, Mark 1982
It is evening in the town of X
where Death, who used to love me, sits
in a limo with a blanket spread across his thighs.
– Mark Strand, “2032”
Broadside of “2032” by Mark Strand
Buy this broadside⇒
Vintage poster of Mark Strand’s reading at the Poetry Center of Chicago.
Not the attendance of stones,
nor the applauding wind,
shall let you know
you have arrived,
nor the sea that celebrates
only departures,
nor the mountains,
nor the dying cities.
– Mark Strand, “Black Maps”
Read this interview with Mark Strand from Guernica:
Not Quite Invisible
Mark Strand finds it somewhat un-poetic to know too much about himself. He isn’t always sure what he’s saying when he writes a poem. What he does know is that he’s going to “relinquish basketball and become a fútbol fan,” that he wants to shake up his life, and that he is ready for “harmony in the boudoir.”
It shines in the garden,
in the white foliage of the chestnut tree,
in the brim of my father’s hat
as he walks on the gravel.
– Mark Strand, “The Garden”
Watch Mark Strand talk about his work:
