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J A N U A R Y   1 9 9 9

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by Susan Donnelly

audioear picture Hear Susan Donnelly read this poem (in RealAudio).

(For help, see a note about the audio.)

Return to "Fan Letters," a poetry anthology, in the January, 1999, issue.

Also by Susan Donnelly:
The Third-Prize Photograph (2000)

Go to:
An Audible Anthology
Poetry Pages

That's right. When words don't say it,
stop talking. Become beautiful and strange.
The one of sudden arrivals,
announced by a horn.

A faun, seen between trees.

Pluck your thin music, your eyes
getting rounder, face changing
like clouds. And when lies
don't work, even silent ones,

get caught silver-handed,
with everything tucked up your sleeve.

Susan Donnelly is a poet whose work has appeared in The Norton Introduction to Poetry. Her book Eve Names the Animals (1985) was awarded the Samuel French Morse Poetry Prize by Northeastern University.

Copyright © 1999 by The Atlantic Monthly Company. All rights reserved.
The Atlantic Monthly; January 1999; Harpo; Volume 283, No. 1; page 57.

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