"Nezhukumatathil’s poems contain elegant twists of a very sharp knife. She writes about the natural world and how we live in it, filling each poem, each page with a true sense of wonder." Roxane Gay
“Cultural strands are woven into the DNA of her strange, lush... poems. Aphorisms...from another dimension.” The New York Times
“With unparalleled ease, she’s able to weave each intriguing detail into a nuanced, thought-provoking poem that also reads like a startling modern-day fable.” The Poetry Foundation
“How wonderful to watch a writer who was already among the best young poets get even better!” Terrance Hayes
With inquisitive flair, Aimee Nezhukumatathil creates a thorough registry of the earth’s wonderful and terrible magic. In her fourth collection of poetry, she studies forms of love as diverse and abundant as the ocean itself. She brings to life a father penguin, a C-section scar, and the Niagara Falls with a powerful force of reverence for life and living things. With an encyclopedic range of subjects and unmatched sincerity, Oceanic speaks to each reader as a cooperative part of the earth, an extraordinary neighborhood to which we all belong.
From “Starfish and Coffee”:
And that’s how you feel after tumbling like sea stars on the ocean floor over each other.
A night where it doesn’t matter which are arms or which are legs or what radiates and how
• nly your centers stuck together.
Aimee Nezhukumatathil is the author of four collections of poetry. Recipient of a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship and the prestigious Eric Hoffer Grand Prize, Nezhukumatathil teaches creative writing and environmental literature in the MFA program at the University of Mississippi.
|Publisher:||Copper Canyon Press|
|Product dimensions:||5.80(w) x 8.80(h) x 0.30(d)|
About the Author
Aimee Nezhukumatathil has been widely celebrated for her lush imagination and all-embracing style. Preoccupied with earth science since childhood, Nezhukumatathil crafts her research-based poetry using curious phenomena of the natural world; realizing a vision of strangeness and beauty. Her full-length debut, Miracle Fruit: Poems, won the Tupelo press prize in 2003, followed by her Balcones prize-winning At the Drive-In Volcano. Her third collection, Lucky Fish, was the winner of a gold medal from the Independent Publisher Book Awards and the prestigious Eric Hoffer Grand Prize for Independent Books. Her many other honors include fellowships from the MacDowell Colony, the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing, and the National Endowment for the Arts. Today Nezhukumatathil serves as the poetry editor of Orion magazine. She teaches creative writing and environmental literature as a professor of English in the MFA program at the University of Mississippi in Oxford, where she lives with her husband and sons.
Read an Excerpt
DREAM CAUSED BY THE FLIGHT OF A BEE AROUND A POMEGRANATE ONE SECOND BEFORE WAKING UPafter the painting with the same name by Salvador DalíIn one second, three hundred and fifty slices of pizzaare eaten somewhere on this earth. A heart beats just once.Once, I dreamed you were so near I could smellyour honeyed hair and the damp folds in your blue sleeve.I woke up and watered my violets. And woke again.And woke again and again till I could not rememberif the water bubbling out and over the small lipsof the pots was dream water or water real as a pin.Or the plash of an elephant walking the sea on bony stiltslike in this Dalí painting. Here is the mouth of a fishwide with wonder at the twin tigers leaping outfrom it—roaring with ocean salt till they’ve soared abovea floating pomegranate, a heart full of seed. In twenty-fourmicroseconds, a stick of dynamite will explode afterits fuse burned down. Houseflies flick their wings onceevery three milliseconds. Even that fly is long goneto the other side of the yard in the time it took to write flick.Giant tortoises and compact discs last one hundred years.In one million years, Los Angeles will move forty kilometersnorth because of plate tectonics. A spaceship zooming alongat the speed of light would not yet reach the halfway pointto the Andromeda galaxy. One billion years: one ocean born.The time it takes for the last waxy smudge of me to stop lovingyou. Only at the bottom do you find anything about a bee.
ONE-STAR REVIEWS OF THE TAJ MAHAL(a found poem)
Too bad it was man-made.As a stand alone attraction I guess it’s passablebut compared to the McDonald’s at Celebration Mallit’s just meh.Not for Indians. Very tacky.There was no cloakroom at the South Gate!The garden is also very basic. Every thing is basic.We were ripped off by asking local shopkeepers to hold our bags for us. You willbe swarmed, swarmed by street vendors and children swarmed by camels andparking lot goons and children and cheat cameramen and stalker tourist guidesand camel children and footwear thieves, so: MIND YOUR BELONGINGS!It’s just an old love story.But is it love or hate?I was told to get out with my selfie stick!Don’t even think about seeing it under a full moon.This tomb has no rides.
UPON HEARING THE NEWS YOU BURIED OUR DOGI have faith in the single glossy capsule of a butterfly egg.I have faith in the way a wasp nest is never quietand never wants to be. I have faith that the pile of fortypainted turtles balanced on top of each other will not fallas the whole messy mass makes a scrabble-runfor the creek and away from a fox’s muddy paws.I have been thinking of you on these moonless nights—nights so full of blue fur and needle-whiskers, I don’t darelinger outside for long. I wonder if scientists could classify usa binary star—something like Albireo, sixteen-hundredlight years away. I love that this star is actually two—one blueone gold, circling each other, never touching—a single starsoldered and edged in two colors if you see it on a clear nightin July. And if this evening, wherever you are,brings you face to face with a raccoon or possum—be careful of the teeth and all that wet bite.During the darkest part of the night, teeth grow longerin their mouths. And if the oleander spins you stillanother way—take a turn and follow it. It will help you avoidthe spun-light sky, what singularity we might’ve become.
MEALS OF GRIEF & HAPPINESS1.I believe in the tears of an elephant.How they stamp the groundand forget they are in musth—panting—and cinnamon shrubsor piles of sugarcane can’t temptthem to stop their cycle of grief.I believe in the broken heartof an elephant. When a companiondies, I believe in the rocking backand forth, the dry pebbly tongue.I believe in wanting to wear onlydust, hear only dust, taste only dust.I believe in wanting to touch nothingand wanting nothing to touch you.2I believe in the tail wag of a dog.The toothy grin of an apple-fed horse,the shine from the wet in the eyeswild with joy. I like the movementsin a chimp’s fine fur as he swingsfrom branch to rubber tire and thumpshis companion on the head with a bright-red ball.I believe in the single sugar cube sparklingon a small ceramic dish as we sit at a café—me sipping a soda with a paper straw,you leaning in close to point to somethingthat neither of us have ever tried—but we will today.The waiter will say Good, good choice, my favorite,as he gathers up the vinyl menus and leaves us.
TWO MOTHSSome girls on the other side of this planetwill never know the lovelinessof walking in a crepe silk sari. Insteadthey will spend their days on their backsfor a parade of men who could be their unclesin another life. These girls memorizeeach slight wobble of fan blade as it cutsthrough the stale tea air and auto-rickshawexhaust thick as egg curry.Men shove greasy rupees at the doorfor one hour in a roomwith a twelve-year-old. One hour— One hour—One hour. And if she cries afterwardher older sister will cover it up. Will rimthe waterline of her eyes with kohl penciluntil it looks like two popinjay mothshave stopped to rest on her exquisite face.
Table of Contents
Self-Portrait as Scallop 3
When I Am Six 4
On Listening to Your Teacher Take Attendance 5
The Origin of Feathers on My Windshield 6
Sea Church 7
Mr. Cass and the Crustaceans 8
Penguin Valentine 10
From The Rambutan Notebooks 12
Two Moths 13
In Praise of My Manicure 14
End-of-Summer Haibun 15
When Lucille Bogan Sings "Shave 'Em Dry" 16
The Two Times I Loved You the Most on a Farm 17
Aubade with Cutlery and Crickets 18
When You Select the Daughter Card 19
At the Pumpkin Festival My Lips Burn Bright 20
Self-Portrait as Niagara Falls in Winter 21
Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate One Second before Waking Up 22
The Falling: Four Who Have Intentionally Plunged Over Niagara Falls with the Hope of Surviving 23
Forsythe Avenue Haibun 27
Meals of Grief & Happiness 28
Inside the Cloud Forest Dome 30
I Could Be a Whale Shark 31
Love in the Time of Swine Flue 33
Self-Portrait as C-Section Scar 34
The Cockroach Responds 35
Andromache Begs Hector to Reconsider 36
When I'm Away from You, I Feel like the Second-Place Winner in a Bee-Wearing Contest 37
In the Museum of Glass Flowers 38
Travel Mommy Ghazal 40
Flowers at the Taj Mahal 41
While Riding an Elephant, I Think of Unicorns 42
Self-Portrait as an Egg-Tempera Illuminated Manuscript from 1352 44
Letter to the Northern Lights 45
Perch Bones and Apple Aubade 46
This Sugar 47
Too Many Cooks Spoil the Broth 48
Psyche & Cupid: A Reimagining 49
Venus Instructing Cupid to Torment Psyche 51
Psyche Considers Her Last Letter from Cupid 52
Upon Hearing the News You Buried Our Dog 53
The Body 54
The Pepper Kingdom 55
One-Star Reviews of the Taj Mahal 56
First Time on the Funicular 57
One-Star Reviews of the Great Wall of China 59
The Pepper King Returns 60
Starfish and Coffee 61
Naming the Heartbeats 63
My South 65
Bengal Tiger 67
About the Author 73