‘We are a literary magazine.’ Very snooty, very put-me-down… women, you know… poems about children?”Ī season later, even if bragging about grabbing women by the genitals did not derail a presidential campaign, Olds’ poems about children and desire, about so-called women’s issues-family, and how the complications of loving what can nearly break you-continue to make her one of Americas’s most beloved poets. “They used to say, ‘Why don’t you try the Ladies Home Journal?’ she continues, her face now crinkling into a frown. Wearing sweats and a hand-me-down t-shirt, her face sculpted by curiosity, Olds is illuminated, patient and quick to praise: a benevolent siren on an island as a storm approaches in the distance. For two hours, however, the future president’s name doesn’t pass either of our lips. This memory of hers stirs up bewilderment like a warning. We’re speaking on a warm afternoon last summer, before the news blossomed into an ongoing outrage. “They came back often with very angry notes,” the 74-year-old poet says, sitting in her small, light-filled apartment overlooking NYU’s campus in Greenwich Village. THE MEN The Connoisseuse of Slugs Poem to My First Lover New Mother The Line The Fear of Oneself Poem to My Husband from My Father's Daughter Sex Without Love Ecstasy III.Sharon Olds can still remember how furious editors became when she started submitting her poems, 40 years ago. THE FAMILY Possessed The Victims The Forms The Departure Burn Center The Ideal Father Fate My Father Snoring The Moment My Father's Breasts The Takers The Pact The Derelict Late Speech with My Brother The Elder Sister II. PRIVATE The Guild Grandmother Love Poem The Eye Birthday Poem for My Grandmother Of All the Dead That Have Come to Me, This Once Farewell Poem The Winter After Your Death Miscarriage The End Best Friends Absent One Part Two: Poems for the Living I.
PUBLIC Ideographs Photograph of the Girl Race Riot, Tulsa, 1921 Portrait of a Child Nevsky Prospekt The Death of Marilyn Monroe The Issues Aesthetics of the Shah Things That Are Worse Than Death II.
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