Lorine Niedecker’s Writing

Remember my little granite pail?
The handle of it was blue.
Think what's got away in my life—
Was enough to carry me thru.

---

Black Hawk held: In reason
land cannot be sold,
only things to be carried away,
and I am old.

Young Lincoln's general moved,
pawpaw in bloom,
and to this day, Black Hawk,
reason has small room.

---

There's a better shine
on the pendulum
than is on my hair
and many times
          .. ..
I've seen it there.

---

Asa Gray wrote Increase Lapham:
pay particular attention
to my pets, the grasses.

---

In moonlight lies
          the river passing—
it's not quiet
          and it's not laughing.

I'm not young
          and I'm not free
but I've a house of my own
          by a willow tree.

---

In the great snowfall before the bomb
colored yule tree lights
windows, the only glow for contemplation
along this road

I worked the print shop
right down among em
the folk from whom all poetry flows
and dreadfully much else.

I was Blondie
I carried my bundles of hog feeder price lists
down by Larry the Lug,
I'd never get anywhere
because I'd never had suction,
pull, you know, favor, drag,
well-oiled protection.

---

What horror to awake at night
and in the dimness see the light.
          Time is white
          mosquitoes bite
I've spent my life on nothing.

The thought that stings. How are you, Nothing,
sitting around with Something's wife.
          Buzz and burn
          is all I learn
I've spent my life on nothing.

I've pillowed and padded, pale and puffing
lifting household stuffing—
          carpets, dishes
          benches, fishes
I've spent my life in nothing.

---

Paul
     when the leaves
          fall

from their stems
     that lie thick
          on the walk

in the light
     of the full note
          the moon

playing
     to leaves
          when they leave

the little
     thin things
          Paul

---

The death of my poor father
leaves debts
and two small houses.

To settle this estate
a thousand fees arise—
I enrich the law.

Before my own death is certified,
recorded, final judgement
judged

taxes taxed
I shall own a book
of old Chinese poems

and binoculars
to probe the river
trees.

---

Hear
where her snow-grave is
the You
          ah you
of mourning doves

---

My friend tree
I sawed you down
but I must attend
an older friend
the sun

---

Easter

A robin stood by my porch
      and side-eyed
            raised up
                  a worm

---

Get a load
    of April's
       fabulous

frog rattle—
     lowland freight cars
       in the night

---

Poet's work

Grandfather
    advised me:
            Learn a trade

I learned
    to sit at desk
           and condense

No layoff
    from this
          condensery

---

Now in one year
    a book published
          and plumbing—
took a lifetime
    to weep
          a deep
               trickle

---

I knew a clean man
but he was not for me.
Now I sew green aprons
over covered seats. He

wades the muddy water fishing,
fall in, dries his last pay-check
in the sun, smooths it out
in Leaves Of Grass. He's
the one for me.

---

Popcorn-can cover
screwed to the wall
over a hole
       so the cold
can't mouse in

---

Your erudition
the elegant flower
of which

my blue chicory
at scrub end
of campus ditch

illuminates

---

(Excerpt from "Lake Superior")

I'm sorry to have missed
      Sand Lake
My dear one tells me
      we did not
We watched a gopher there

---

My Life by Water

My life
   by water—
       Hear

spring's
   first frog
       or board

out on the cold
   ground
       giving

Muskrats
   gnawing
       doors

to wild green
   arts and letters
       Rabbits

raided
   my lettuce
       One boat

two—
   pointed toward
       my shore

thru birdstart
   wingdrip
       weed-drift

of the soft
   and serious—
       Water

---

Far reach
   of sand
         A man

bends to inspect
   a shell
         Himself

part coral
   and mud
         clam

---

Fall

We must pull
the curtains—
we haven't any
leaves

---

I walked
New Year's Day

beside the trees
my father now gone planted

evenly following
the road

Each
      spoke

---

Katherine Ann
             A poor poet
             divining Gail

The baby looked toward me
and I was born—
to sound, light
lift, life
beyond my life

She wiggles her toe
I grow
I go to school to her
and she to me
and to Bonnie

---

Wilderness

You are the man
You are my other country
and I find it hard going

You are the prickly pear
You are the sudden violent storm

the torrent to raise the river
to float the wounded doe