Thunderstorm Stack
A bird flashed by as if mistaken then it
starts. We do not think speed of life.
We do not think why hate Jezebel? We
think who’s that throwing trees against
the house? Jezebel was a Phoenician.
Phoenician thunderstorms are dry and
frightening, they arrive one inside the
other as torqued ellipses.
Credit
Copyright © 2015 by Anne Carson. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 18, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.
About this Poem
“This poem written as part of the score for a dance piece called Stacks, choreographed by Jonah Bokaer and first performed at Mount Tremper Arts.”
—Anne Carson
Author
Anne Carson
Anne Carson is the author of several poetry collections, including Float (Alfred A. Knopf, 2016) and Antigonick (New Directions, 2015).
Date Published
11/18/2015