In case you hadn't seen it yet, Pulitzer Prize-winner James Tate has a new book out called The Ghost Soldiers.
“Mr. Tate’s gift is such that many of [his] poems move me at least to plain envy of what he can do.”
"It's rare that a poet so far into his career—this is Tate's 15th collection—comes up with something new; quietly, Tate has found a fresh way of telling some of America's stories."
–Publishers Weekly (starred review)
I took my daughter Kelsey to the train
station. As the train was leaving, we waved
and waved to one another. I never saw her again.
She went on to become the fi rst woman on the moon.
How she got there nobody knew. And she never
came back, as far as I know. And she never wrote
me a letter, she never called. I just hope she’s
happy, my moonbeam. Every night I’m at my telescope.
I’ve seen dinosaurs, snow leopards, fl amingos.
I saw a one-eyed dog wagging its tail. I saw a
mail truck. I saw a sailboat, but, of course,
there is no water. I saw a sign for water pointing
to the earth. I saw a sign for hamburgers
pointing to the earth. And I saw a little girl
fall off her tricycle. A poof of atomic tangerine
dust, that’s all. I never saw the girl again.
The tumbled tricycle’s wheels kept spinning.
Sleep, I said, sleep, little baby.