Nervous System

Poems

Rosalie Moffett

• Publisher: Ecco
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9780062930217
• eBook ISBN: 9780062930231
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literary Essays
• Index: Literature

A moving and kinetic collection of poetry from the 2018 winner of the National Poetry Series, selected by Monica Youn

Unexpected, unusual, and stirring, the poetry of Rosalie Moffett “takes us to the brink of a world continually unmaking itself,” (Georgia Review). From diving-bell spiders to the nervous system of the human body, from trees growing so heavy with fruit that they split to dogs galloping through snowy hills, Moffett’s world is rendered with precision, intricacy, and extraordinary beauty.

Exhilarating in its technical expertise but also steeped in a profound connection to the natural world and the human psyche, Nervous System is a collection from a major emerging voice.

A daughter maps her mother’s changing mind after a brain injury, finding language in the precise and startling world of science.

• Poetry of Science and the Body: Follows the intricate threads connecting the human nervous system to the secret lives of spiders, snails, and the natural world.
• Memory and Language: A deeply personal look at aphasia, concussion, and the struggle to find words when the mind’s connections are frayed.
• Lyrical and Narrative Verse: Verses that are both technically exhilarating and emotionally resonant, telling a powerful, book-length story of family and trauma.
• National Poetry Series Winner: Selected by judge Monica Youn, this collection cements Rosalie Moffett’s place as a major new voice in American poetry.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Publisher’s Note

Dedication

What the Mind Makes

Nervous System

[Scientist’s betrayal]

[She studied snails]

[Seeing stars, it’s called]

[I was taught the lyric is a song]

[Seeing stars—as if in awe—as if driven]

[So out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere, that there]

[She made two of me—twins, of which]

[After a head trauma, distance]

[Some trees grow so heavy they split]

[Perhaps I have no business]

[Perhaps it wasn’t her head hitting the rocks]

[Who was it who said]

[We played a game on the bus that took us]

[Faced with one of those holy moments]

[I started out looking]

[I am at the ballet, watching a woman]

[Up early for the long drive home, I become]

[The arachnoid mater is translated]

[To protect itself, a jumping spider will secure]

[In the womb we watch our eyelids. This is enough]

[The diving bell spider]

[Some of the smallest]

[It’s not one spindle, one spool of thread,]

[The inside of her, so]

[Inside her, with their robotic snake]

[Her blood so thin when they drew it]

[It’s misleading, isn’t it, the revelation]

[Her checked bag was crammed]

[I see a woman walking a dog—see from afar]

[I return to the idea]

[In fact, I’ve never fractured, though I’ve flown]

[Why, people ask even now]

[It seems I should know what it is]

[It’s called sweetening]

[Aspirin, ibuprofen, hydrocodone—]

[It appears and appears to me,]

[My mother’s dog is buried under a railroad tie]

[Before the dam,]

[Again, on the phone, I]

[If, in a dream I open a book, I find the words]

[To dream of a storm]

[It’s unbecoming, my mother]

[We were assigned, at thirteen, dolls]

[Before you know what it is, it is]

[In the event of a fly or beetle thrust headlong]

[When I was young]

[Terrifically alo...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Publisher’s Note
• Dedication
• Contents
• What the Mind Makes
• Nervous System
• [Scientist’s betrayal]
• [She studied snails]
• [Seeing stars, it’s called]
• [I was taught the lyric is a song]
• [Seeing stars—as if in awe—as if driven]
• [So out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere, that there]
• [She made two of me—twins, of which]
• [After a head trauma, distance]
• [Some trees grow so heavy they split]
• [Perhaps I have no business]
• [Perhaps it wasn’t her head hitting the rocks]
• [Who was it who said]
• [We played a game on the bus that took us]
• [Faced with one of those holy moments]
• [I started out looking]
• [I am at the ballet, watching a woman]
• [Up early for the long drive home, I become]
• [The arachnoid mater is translated]
• [To protect itself, a jumping spider will secure]
• [In the womb we watch our eyelids. This is enough]
• [The diving bell spider]
• [Some of the smallest]
• [It’s not one spindle, one spool of thread,]
• [The inside of her, so]
• [Inside her, with their robotic snake]
• [Her blood so thin when they drew it]
• [It’s misleading, isn’t it, the revelation]
• [Her checked bag was crammed]
• [I see a woman walking a dog—see from afar]
• [I return to the idea]
• [In fact, I’ve never fractured, though I’ve flown]
• [Why, people ask even now]
• [It seems I should know what it is]
• [It’s called sweetening]
• [Aspirin, ibuprofen, hydrocodone—]
• [It appears and appears to me,]
• [My mother’s dog is buried under a railroad tie]
• [Before the dam,]
• [Again, on the phone, I]
• [If, in a dream I open a book, I find the words]
• [To dream of a storm]
• [It’s unbecoming, my mother]
• [We were assigned, at thirteen, dolls]
• [Before you know what it is, it is]
• [In the event of a fly or beetle thrust headlong]
• [When I was young]
• [Terrifically alone, in tulips]
• [The moon pulls the ocean and the moon snail]
• [The round bottle cap of skull, pulled up]
• [The dura mater, hard]
• [Memory loss, some think, is evolutionary,]
• [The snail, so human, recoils]
• [A web: the most practical art.]
• [I know she followed the nerves]
• [How is she? I don’t say I am afraid to hear]
• Acknowledgments
• National Poetry Series Winners
• About the Author
• Copyright
• About the Publisher