Tag Archives: Anne Gorrick Blizzard and Flock

Anne Gorrick’s I-Formation (Book Two)

© Image by Elizabeth Bryant

Anne Gorrick is a poet and visual artist. She is the author of I-Formation (Book 2) (Shearsman, 2012), I-Formation (Book 1) (Shearsman, 2010), and Kyotologic (Shearsman, 2008). She collaborated with artist Cynthia Winika to produce a limited edition artists’ book, “Swans, the ice,” she said, funded by the Women’s Studio Workshop in Rosendale, NY and the New York Foundation for the Arts.

She curates the reading series Cadmium Text, which focuses on innovative writing from in and around New York’s Hudson Valley. She also co-curates the electronic poetry journal Peep/Show with poet Lynn Behrendt, which is a taxonomic exercise in textual and visual seriality”. Images of her visual art can be found here. Anne lives in West Park, New York.
I-Formation in its entirety is comprised of four separate groups of poems, that when ordered in a particular way, tell a Genesis story. The first book (2010) begins in a garden and ends with an incarnation of Eve meeting her coeval. The break between books expresses a break in the story. Something has happened. Something perhaps as simple as eating an apple. The second book addresses the things we are left with once we are thrown out of the garden: co-identity and depiction, the self and landscape. The first section of the second book is a collection of poems based on anagrams of people’s names, and forms a relationship map of this poet’s life. The final section is comprised of poems based largely on the Hudson Valley landscape, a world exterior to and surrounding the garden.”
“Anne Gorrick echolocates with ‘ninja canniness’ a mythos and topology of selves amidst and against haunted weathers and ‘feral dollars.’ I-Formation (Book 2) is a book of spider nests and tennis nets, a vibrant book of Genesis (continued). But most of all it is a hot web of keyword alter egos and shifting stakes, where ‘Misnomers simmer like memoirs’.”

– Tom Beckett
“Anne Gorrick’s, I-Formation (Book 2) is exuberant writing. Expanding fields of vision communicate with what is imperceptible, undisclosed and under the surface. That is to say, the tactile and sensual border on forthcoming presences, what is yet to become—there is so much tension and anticipation in this not-yet future. To get there, marvelous syntax is used. These realms are in a radius, like local color, proximate to the body, felt. This book is the universe.”

– Brenda Iijima

“Anne Gorrick’s wonderfully astute ear & eye for words provoke in me alignments & intertwining with other art forms. In the first section of this book, with its anagrammatic approach to the names of the people the poems are dedicated to, I keep seeing Klee, hearing the canons & fugues of Bach. With the second section, the Hudson Valley poems, I find the music symphonic, the landscape Fauve. Surround sound in a delightful gallery.”

– Mark Young
Blizzard and Flock
settled in her lungs
She knew when she coughed up feathers
A bouquet of bruise and fresh peonies
was the rusty promise of her chest

In these interior branches
hung sacs of liquid: clear, watery
that bubbled up into her mouth
A hatching: platinum streaked with blood
She felt a swimming against her tongue
felt she must test everything in the world
for its truth in existence by licking
each fur, each stone, each piece of glass, beach bone

She didn’t tell anyone:
the feathers, the roe burst
the infection that bloomed in her house

When the new brood protected by her tongue
began to hum slightly, she ferreted in
the backs of his closets. A burgundy velvet
dress from the 1940s, tied in the back, a row
of rhinestone buttons fell down her sternum
like frozen tears

In this once-empty dress, she moved the metal
wardrobe from the door, and entered Julia’s room

Dress the color, a cardinal’s peripheral fragment
Dress the color, the blood-opal
Dress the color, torchsac of the jellyfish

White walls rimmed skyblue
A shoebox filled with the hair
of an appendixdead son
And a black slip and a red one
a pink mesh dress, an unburnt candle

She spit an entire salmon onto the floor
and it begged to be let back in

She ground its eggs in her teeth
She coughed four starpale feathers
and rubbed the constellation on her sternum
Wishes made and wishes granted

She was melting snow, had the quality
of a virus descended
a protean, unknown migration

When he returned to bed
she drew with her tongue the sunrise and
sunset on his belly
a spidernest in his left hand
a turtle on the left side of his neck
a pronghorn on the right shoulder
the latter two connected by a footpath
spanning the jugular plain

A wintercrop in her lungs
she coughed splinters of wheat
This is what the birds found as food
why they were there
from I-Formation (Book Two) (Shearsman, 2012).

Order I-Formation (Book Two).