Harrington, Janice 2002
American Poets Reading
with Jenny A. Burkholder, Deborah Cummins, and John Mann
Evening, and all my ghosts come back to me
like red banty hens to catalpa limbs
and chicken-wired hutches, clucking, clucking,
and falling, at last, into their head-under-wing sleep.
– Janice Harrington, “Shaking the Grass”
Read this interview with Janice Harrington from Ploughshares:
Hearing Voices: Women Versing Life presents Janice N. Harrington – The Ploughshares Blog
As a poetry editor at Prick of the Spindle, I find that poems about certain subjects, such as childhood, love, aging, and death, often lean too heavily on nostalgia, so that the language limps. In fact, I’ve been guilty of writing my own nostalgic poems now and again- and again.
if I purloin protons, all the negative numbers,
and seven of Cantor’s infinities,
if the world’s sweetness drips from my lips–
syrupy, nectareous, honey-wined cascades
of sweetness between full lips–
– Janice Harrington, “The Thief’s Tabernacle”
Watch Janice Harrington read her work for the River Styx Magazine:
River Styx at the Tavern: Janice N. Harrington & George Singleton
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