Today's poem is "Phrasing and form"
from A Fiddle Pulled from the Throat of a Sparrow

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Noah Eli Gordon's books include Novel Pictorial Noise (selected by John Ashbery for the 2006 National Poetry Series), Inbox (BlazeVOX, 2006), The Area of Sound Called the Subtone (Ahsahta Press, 2004; selected by Claudia Rankine for the Sawtooth Prize), and The Frequencies (Tougher Disguises, 2003). Ugly Duckling Presse recently published That We Come To A Consensus, a chapbook written in collaboration with Sara Veglahn. His reviews and essays have appeared in dozens of journals, including Boston Review, The Poker, 26, Jacket, and The Poetry Project Newsletter. He writes a chapbook review column for Rain Taxi, and teaches at the University of Colorado at Denver.

Books by Noah Eli Gordon: A Fiddle Pulled from the Throat of a Sparrow, Novel Pictorial Noise, The Area Of Sound Called The Subtone, Inbox, The Frequencies

Other poems on the web by Noah Eli Gordon:
Three poems
"A Lost Whalebone Essay"

Noah Eli Gordon according to Wikipedia.

About A Fiddle Pulled from the Throat of a Sparrow:

"You can fairly hear the pinging of the world and all its parts—noises of earth's objects rubbing against each other and the spheres. In this ebullient music find the translation of colors, shapes, space, speech, integrity, destruction. It's as if the world's most believable cape were thrown back and below we found not a sham of seasons but all the body's most dynamic possibilities."
—Eleni Sikelianos

"Such a new century deserves the sexual, the scientific, and the utterly secular pleasure of building a poem with the tectonics of a great bridge. So little pathos and so many paths. Broken like the heteronyms of Pessoa, but filled with multiple lives, Noah Eli Gordon teases all false monumentality yet reserves its rights to memory. To call it witty or wild isn't witty or wild enough and leaves out the cavalier, the paideia, and structural surge. He has the restless tones and narrative density of a septet. His work itself glows green with surprises. He is a painter, of course."
—David Shapiro

"I am inclined to read Noah Eli Gordon's new book from the perspective of a thousand years, when nature and artifice will have fused into bird-encircled circuitries of song. In other words, in other worlds, is where this writing's sand-clock accumulates its evidence. Yet Gordon demonstrates that, even as names fall away from their referents, they also claim the right of return. Here, every word holds its own echo, as if spoken inside a space helmet, and assumes a vexed convexity of mirror that allows the accidental to slide into the essential."
—Andrew Joron

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