New from Smith/Doorstop: Michael Schmidt’s ‘Collected Poems’.

We’re delighted to announce the launch of Michael Schmidt’s ‘Collected Poems’.

This title is available to buy from The Poetry Business and Inpress. The cover price is £18.95 and Friends of The Poetry Business are entitled to a 25% discount when they order direct from us.

This collection will be launched tonight at The Showroom Cinema in Sheffield, as part of the Off the Shelf festival. Michael Schmidt will be reading alongside Michael McCarthy (overall winner of the 2008 competition). All welcome – call 0114 275 7727 for information and tickets.

Collected Poems – Michael Schmidt

Michael Schmidt was born in Mexico in 1947. He studied at Harvard and at Wadham College, Oxford. He is Professor of Poetry at Glasgow University, where he is convenor of the Creative Writing Programme.

He is a founder (1969) and editorial and managing director of Carcanet Press Limited, and a founder (1972) and general editor of PN Review. An anthologist, translator, critic and literary historian, he is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature and received an O.B.E. in 2006 for services to poetry.

‘Vibrant, radiant… steeped in modernist tradition (Yeats and Eliot) and questingly new… a passionate discourse that is at once earthy and numinous’ – John Ashbery

‘Schmidt is a stringent poet, never shy of painful truth’ – Helen Dunmore, The Observer
 

CHOOSING A GUEST

1
Whom shall I invite? The centrepiece
Is five red apples on a walnut dish.
The table takes their sheen. Whom
Shall I invite to what the trees provide?

2
Before I choose a guest I go outside.
It is evening almost, almost winter here:
Under the apple tree a pungent mud of fruit,
One bough fractured by the wealth it bears.

3
I have chosen. And will she come?
It is like necromancy to invite
The guest who yesterday, the day before,
Laughing, turned to darkness at my board.

4
Absence I will invite. I will invite
The morning birds, and I will not ask her.
The birds will not come, and she will not come.
The sheen will pass from fruit into the dark.

5
It is too late to eat, too late to ask.
I shall say grace but break no bread.
The lamp will not be lit; I shall sit still
As shadow takes the taste instead.

6
Here is my bed. How the scent of apples clings
To my breathing, and the scent of her.
I am alarmed
How nothing leaves me, though the light is gone.

– Michael Schmidt, Collected Poems (Smith/Doorstop, 2009)