Penitential Cries

<p><strong>SHORTLISTED FOR THE PEN/VOELKER AWARD FOR POETRY</strong></p><p><em>What labor to live forever. Speak of the elect what can you do in all this world so much life in the little of it. </em></p><p>In four parts, Susan Howe’s new book opens with the arresting long prose poem “Penitential Cries,” followed by a group of word-collages “Sterling Park in the Dark,” “The Deserted Shelf,” and finally a brief sparrow poem. Speaking of her new work written in “the evening of life,” Howe quotes Thomas Wyatt: <em>My galley, chargèd with forgetfulness, / thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass</em>. She says: “I love those two lines. Between trespass and penitence. In the wilderness of the Book Stack Tower inquiry is trespass. Now at eighty-seven,” the poet adds, regarding <em>Penitential Cries</em>, “I want to express my pilgrim's progress between rocks and paper places. The clock is ticking. It's getting late. Supper is on the table. Our father lies full fifty fathoms five. A storm is coming.”</p>