Twelve by Twelve in 2012 - Mary Szybist

Reading poetry is often an introspective activity, but sometimes it's enjoyable to share and discuss a poem that is particularly moving. If you feel this to be true, we'd love to have you join us 'virtually' this Monday, May 21st from 12 to 1 p.m. to read and discuss poetry. Our guest will be Mary Szybist, who will be answering your questions about her poem "Girls Overheard While Assembling a Puzzle."

Mary's first book, Granted, (Alice James Books, 2003) was a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award. Her poems have appeared in Virginia Quarterly Review, Poetry, Tin House, The Iowa Review, Best American Poetry 2008, The Kenyon Review, and other journals. She teaches at Lewis & Clark College.

To participate, just make sure to 'like' Multnomah County Library on Facebook, and then log in at 12 to add to the conversation. You'll find the complete text of the poem below, just in case you'd like to be prepared.

Girls Overheard While Assembling a Puzzle

Are you sure this blue is the same as the
blue over there? This wall's like the
bottom of a pool, its
color I mean. I need a
darker two-piece this summer, the kind with
elastic at the waist so it actually
fits. I can't
find her hands. Where does this gold
go? It's like the angel's giving
her a little piece of honeycomb to eat.
I don't see why God doesn't
just come down and
kiss her himself. This is the red of that
lipstick we saw at the
mall. This piece of her
neck could fit into the light part
of the sky. I think this is a
piece of water. What kind of
queen? You mean
right here? And are we supposed to believe
she can suddenly
talk angel? Who thought this stuff
up? I wish I had a
velvet bikini. That flower's the color of the
veins in my grandmother's hands. I
wish we could
walk into that garden and pick an
X-ray to float on.
Yeah. I do too. I'd say a
zillion yeses to anyone for that. 

 - Mary Szybist