Something from Nothing: The Poetry of Marie Howe
Join us for a preview of the poet’s work in advance of her Luminaries visit on June 3rd.
Capturing the spiritual dimensions of everyday life
In Adam Moss’ new book, The Work of Art: How Something Comes from Nothing, poet Marie Howe discusses several of her poems, including the popular “Hurry,” which features her daughter Inan when she was little. Below are snippets from her interview with Moss:
“Everything I do is so simple,” says Howe, “That’s what I’m embarrassed about … It’s wild. It’s encouraging because I’m really struggling, but here it is. When I slow down enough to feel—“ She stops herself. “The challenge of my whole life has been to slow down. I find it very difficult to be still—to endure it.”
“If I think about [readers], I can’t write anything. When I write a poem, I have to pretend no one will see it.’
Her best writing comes when, says Howe, “I am in my nightgown for days, not thinking about anyone else. It takes a couple of days just thrashing through the brambles to get to any type of clearing, and it’s very painful. It’s frustrating, you see all your limitations, but a lot of what is happening is the unconscious is just waiting to see if you mean it. I like it once I settle in, but the borders are tough.”
Once she passes into the other state, “that’s the best feeling in the world—we’re utterly ourselves and we’re nobody.”
Hurry
by Marie Howe
We stop at the dry cleaners and the grocery store
and the gas station and the green market and
Hurry up honey, I say, hurry,
as she runs along two or three steps behind me
her blue jacket unzipped and her socks rolled down.
Where do I want her to hurry to? To her grave?
To mine? Where one day she might stand all grown?
Today, when all the errands are finally done, I say to her,
Honey I’m sorry I keep saying Hurry—
you walk ahead of me. You be the mother.
And, Hurry up, she says, over her shoulder, looking
back at me, laughing. Hurry up now darling, she says,
hurry, hurry, taking the house keys from my hands.