SARAH ARVIO is the author of two previous books of poetry, Visits from the Seventh and Sono. She has won a number of awards and honors, including the Rome Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters and Guggenheim and Bogliasco Fellowships. For many years a translator for the United Nations in New York and Switzerland, she has also taught poetry at Princeton. www.saraharvio.com/arvio/home.html
Praise for Sarah Arvio's Night Thoughts from The Washington Independent Review of Books Who does not love the nighttime mind with its full disclosure, lack of censor- metaphor, innuendo, enchantment, intensity? Sarah Arvio breaks the codes through psychoanalysis and coverts her thoughts to poems. This is a book of mutual discovery for the poet and reader, and most fascinating are the notes which untangle the unapparent worlds. Among the many successes here is that Arvio is too busy puzzling out psyche and prosody to think about moving to sensationalism-but sensational they are-all our horror stories of guilt and shame-memories that changed shape early on. This book is influential because it is one of a kind. With all the books written today, one so unique with such an alternate view of poetry is almost a game changer in the field. There are 70 set pieces of exactly 14 lines. We know how important consistency is to hold tumult. Discipline is essential-and well done, it becomes admirable. Never have symbols had so many faces, but what I like is there are no overt moral questions which would stain the search, and Arvio's lack of punctuation alludes to this. These are works of strong feelings ringed by messages saying we can't control our dreams but we can control the poem. From the uncomfortable silence of the psyche's tundra, Arvio wrings out her truth. three fish the mother of the boy I will marry she takes the knife & she turns it over on the cutting board beside the white fish laying potato peels over the fish each white fish is striped with one red stripe the red stripe marring its delicate flesh my white dress is spattered with bright pink blood all the white lace is spattered with my blood she hides the three fish from the wedding guests covering them up with potato peels she's hiding the fish from their fish shame she doesn't hide me I can't hide myself she hides the three fish so no one can see covering them up with potato peels