March 1, 2023

Connie Deanovich (USA) 1960

Connie Deanovich (USA)



Born in 1960, Connie M. Deanovich received her B.A. in English at Columbia College in Chicago in 1983 and her M.A. at DePaul University in Chicago in 1990. From 1983 to 1988 she worked as a publicity coordinator at The Poetry Center at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Upon receiving her M.A., she became a full-time instructor at Kishwaukee College in Malta, Illinois and, from 1992-1993, an adjunct instructor at Elgin Community College in Elgin, Illinois.

     In 1997 she was awarded the Whiting Writer’s Award. She had previously received a General Electric Foundation Award for Younger Writers in 1990. In 2000 her work was anthologized in American Poetry: The Next Generation (Carnegie Mellon University Press).

     In 1996, she published her first collection of poetry, Watusi Titanic and in 1999 Zoland Books published her Zombie Jet. She currently lives in Madison, Wisconsin.




Watusi Titanic (New York: Timken Publishers, 1996); Zombie Jet (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Zoland Books, 1999)


╬Winner of the PIP Gertrude Stein Awards for Innovative Poetry in English



Though We Wanted It to Stay


the building’s audition

was its demolition

lit from beneath by cop cars

an industrial octopus squeezed it to pieces

the orphans clustered by the pay phone

except for the one was smoking

he and his hat sat bow-legged

on the steps


just try breathing normal here


the time is always twilight

the assassins cold as a coin

with a foreign hole in the middle


just try


we may fling out our arms

“this is our world!”

but the world ignores such distractions

its machines go on fluently

like gorgeous quick-footed doctors

and we observe the operation


soon behind a turquoise curtain

we’ll need more food

something simple on a disposable plate

a glass of cold milk to wash it down with

a glance at the sunflowers out back

57 yellow heads

their seeds not yet vanished inside crows


just try making slow go fast go slow


air changes when it wants to

passing from one symphony to another

like a string of sailor’s whistles on a ship departing

massively at first

across the ocean that envelopes it



Reprinted from New American Writing, no. 23 (2005). Copyright ©2005 by Connie M. Deanovich.

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