Born in Alma, Michigan on August 7th, Peter Gizzi grew up in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. After taking three years off after high school to work in a factory and to help with emotionally disturbed adolescents, he saved money to travel abroad and eventually moved to New York City, where he waited tables and earned his B.A. in Classical Literature from New York University. He also holds degrees from Brown University and The State University of New York at Buffalo.
BOOKS OF POETRY
Creeley Madrigal (Providence, Rhode Island: The Materials Press, 1991); Music for Films (Providence, Rhode Island: Paradigm Press, 1992); Periplum (Penngrove, California: Avec Books, 1992); Hours of the Book (Gran Canaria, Spain: Zasterle Press, 1994); Ledger Domain (Providence, Rhode Island: Timoleon, 1995); New Picnic Time (Buffalo, New York: Meow Press, 1995); Artificial Heart (Providence, Rhode Island: Burning Deck, 1998); Add This to the House (Cambridge, England: Equipage, 1999); Château If (Paris, France: Slacik editions, 2000); Revival (New Haven, Connecticut: Phylum Press, 2002); Fin Amor (Oakland, California: Tougher Disguises, 2002); Some Values of Landscape and Weather (Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 2003); From a Cinematographer’s Letter (London, England: Tolling Elves, 2004); Periplum and Other Poems 1987-2002 (Cambridge, England: Salt Publishers, 2004)
╬Winner of the PIP Gertrude Stein Awards for Innovative Poetry in English
The Moonlight Defense
Why shouldn’t it begin at midnight
when the doorman is asleep in his lodge
and the spinning chrysalis in perfect equanimity
with earth, slippers under the chair,
toothbrush back on its thingy.
If tomorrow were promise, then tonight is real.
Let us pray before the bearded poplar
morphing in up-late celestial wonder.
Celestial wonder inscribed on sleeping lids.
I wander through doors and cascade in noise.
Libraries tower in their occult light.
Yes, solar wind, now windows bloom,
the body waves beyond itself.
Not all speech unuttered equals silence
nor a dropped curtain signals an end.
There are sudden days, every animal secure
in one virtue. The bedrock vision
and the road unraveling, gentle traveler,
the great thing is about to begin.
Reprinted from Bomb, no. 93 (Fall 2005). Copyright ©2005 by Peter Gizzi.