Steve Orlen

Nate Pritts, poet and editor of H_NGM_N, has passed along news that poet and teacher Steve Orlen has died. Here's Orlen's poem "In the House of the Voice of Maria Callas" from the Poetry archive:

In the house of the voice of Maria Callas
We hear the baby’s cries, and the after-supper
Rattle of silverware, and three clocks ticking
To different tunes, and ripe plums
Sleeping in their chipped bowl, and traffic sounds
Dissecting the avenues outside. We hear, like water
Pouring over time itself, the pure distillate arias
Of the numerous pampered queens who have reigned,
And the working girls who have suffered
The envious knives, and the breathless brides
With their horned helmets who have fallen in love
And gone crazy or fallen in love and died
On the grand stage at their appointed moments—
Who will sing of them now? Maria Callas is dead,
Although the full lips and the slanting eyes
And flared nostrils of her voice resurrect
Dramas we are able to imagine in this parlor
On evenings like this one, adding some color,
Adding some order. Of whom it was said:
She could imagine almost anything and give voice to it.

For more poems, as well as reminisces from former Orlen students such as Tony Hoagland and David Rivard, visit H_NGM_N's "Thank You, Steve Orlen" portfolio.