Amanda Nadelberg

Introduction by Chris Fischbach

You either just have or are about to encounter these poems. Let’s say you are about to. My advice? Don’t trust them. Will you find tricky rhetoric here? False logic? If you do, it is the best kind, because you cannot prove that it is false. What’s employed here will not get you an A in your Elementary Logic class, but it will in Advanced Poetry. They are too frantic, too anxious, for you to pin down. Does she earn the first line of “Poem from Claire’s Knee”? I worried, but then I was led through a revolving door out into the rush of the city, a city where in “Our Vision of the Future” “I am a metropolitan / woman! A woman who buys / a lamp because it suits her.” But is this really “our vision of the future” [italics mine], where “I’d like to be both of us / at the same time. You / looking here at you.”? I am confused, a little lost, but in a good way, like I am in Greenwich Village when I emerge from the Sheridan Square subway stop. But it’s okay: I’m on vacation and I have nothing to do but read poetry. Frank O’Hara is there, is here, too, but isn’t he everywhere? And who can blame him? And he certainly is not a woman. Or a painter. And would he invite you to “Sit down and paw / your hands at my basket arrangements”? or say, “you can do whatever / you want to me,” as if he were profligate, as if he were blonde, or religious, as if he were French? Where was I? Oh yes, I forgot that first line because I am in the mountains looking for flowers. I’m watching The Decline of the American Empire, wearing “June Bride” lipstick, and seeing the keg stands enjoying keg stands of their own. You will encounter these poems or you will not. But if you do, throw away your compass and your GPS, and put on your crazy pajamas, the ones you were saving for the carnival.

Like I Said We Are

Like I said We Are A Competitive

Love and just like that: motion.

The mise en place walks into

a bar, orders a drink and sweet-like

lies down in the grass.

Phone calls are made and one

is to his mother. She is a nice person and

she deserves everything, everything.

Plans are made and some people learn to

not shake hands on promises. Hear me,

because I am one of them. I am going

to have a party and it will be a

terrific party—the keg stands

having keg stands of their own. I will

throw it all away. There is a cancer

in indecision. There are ways of causing

ruin to a person over and over again.

Orange juice is orange juice is just

orange juice but the goddamn Floridians

keep putting it in different bottles

and I am late for brunch. The

mise en place dislikes brunch and

the people who eat it. And I am moving.

Soon the Apartment will rent a truck

and drive from one state to the other.

Everything Will Be the Same,

says the mise en place. You Will Be the

Same Person in Your Little Apartment, Just in

Another Apartment. I don’t know

how he knows this but the he must

believe in me. He goes to a movie. The

theatre is empty and he eats chocolate.

Surprisingly, there are no crumbs. The

mise en place says that the best part of

New York City is getting to take

your pants off at the end of the day

and I believe him. I believe that he gets hot

in all that polyester.

Poem From Claire’s Knee

It feels like the first time. I mean it.

You only get to hold onto something

until you don’t hold onto it anymore;

the second part of the holding

is the not holding. To begin with

everything I would like to say: the far

end of the lake, the importance being

the sound of a boat like that, the center of

a lake and those mountains, find flowers,

find sound, find the Italy of the Poem.

The lake, the mountains and a vision of

fruit salad. France on a day in June.

It’s true. Love made me so angry. Here I am,

a picnic. All spread out on a big lake

lawn. I am a picnic. Sit down and paw

your hands at my basket arrangements.

What mountains? Flowers. Flowers,

flowers. A good story is not necessarily

about two people, it’s about fire, or other

moveable things. Astounding electric

hands. The Decline of the American

Empire for instance. Perspective.

Juxtaposition. Intrigue. Maybe

she used to be a little more

beautiful. A little couch in a country

house is a second long in length. Swift

movements. A repetition of a kiss-

kiss to say, It’s Nothing. The weather,

the weather! A lake and its mountains.

A small boat because it’s hard to

get anywhere. Like France. Something

rough and hard that will break your

face open. If it’s raining, we’ll just

have to learn how to not get wet.

Here In the Space-Time Continuum

This mighty arrow and I are going straight

to the moon tonight. Don’t try to stop me.

I guess I just want things that are certain.

So when I say I have had an overmuch

don’t let go of me. I say dumb shit all

the time. I don’t know if I would make a

good fisherman but I know what place is

and I know the many kinds. The kind like

a kitchen table. The kind like a beach

in a pretty country. The kind like the

blanket of a self hovering above

some road someplace because Honesty is

making up stories and sticking to them.

Like driving a car, or wearing a swim

suit, make it special, Sweetheart. The hair like

a piece of home, you can do whatever

you want to me. Like driving a car, or

wearing a swim suit. See how I manage

all the fire when it comes in little circles?

Pink particles kill one pink particle

at a time. There are these moments we are

missing entirely. I sat behind

a really pretty boy in France. I wanted

to kiss his neck. Nighttime is for sleeping,

that’s when you are supposed to sleep. And the

Devil’s Vegetables should be prepared like

you’re cooking in Denver. Remember that.

The size of this aircraft is indicative

of just how big dreams can be. I shine. I

keep trying. I mean, why not, I am out

of small slips of paper and if Stevie

Nicks can be broken hearted then so can

I. I’m going to get red tights. No. No

no, I will sit right here. If I ever

wear lipstick I’d like it to be “June Bride.”

Our Vision for the Future

We come here to understand

especially little things.

Two birds are dancing.

Can you hear their

wings brushing on the

hallway floor? It is like

tiny imaginary sweetness.

Like the part of a shadow

intended only for sound.

Look look look look

look look look,

you can see it!

The quiet acts of trying.

France is grand today. 1986

was just like this: giving our

grapefruits little sun tans.

These days young people

don’t give a damn. Yarrow?

What does that even mean?

Family commitments?

Like a tub? I’m a metropolitan

woman! A woman who buys

a lamp because it suits her.

Maybe I’m ordinary,

huffed against a fence post.

I’d like to be both of us

at the same time. You

looking here at you.