Biography of Anselm Berrigan
Anselm Berrigan (born 1972 in Chicago, Illinois) is a poet and teacher.
Anselm Berrigan grew up in New York City, where he currently resides with his wife, poet Karen Weiser From 2003 to 2007, he served as artistic director at the St. Mark's Poetry Project. He is the brother of poet and musician Edmund Berrigan, half-brother of Kate Berrigan and scientist David Berrigan, son of poets Alice Notley and the late Ted Berrigan, and stepson of the late English poet and prose writer Douglas Oliver. He has also lived in Buffalo, NY at the "Ranch" and was known lovingly as "Anton" in San Francisco, CA. He is a co-chair of the writing program at the Bard College summer MFA program and a professor at Wesleyan University. He has also taught writing at Brooklyn College, Rutgers University, Pratt Institute, and the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at Naropa. His newest works are a book-length poem called Notes From Irrelevance (2011), Sure Shot (2013), and Loading (2013), which was done in collaboration with artist Jonathan Allen.
Anselm Berrigan Poems
Primitive State [excerpt]
Thingitation righteousness for pre-avail to drive away the mighty kraken Put me in a room full of strangers and leave me alone
drawn frogs appear to serve the exoskeletal goddess in full mollusk shrug, shelves built for dated wreck registers, cranial outbursts finely detailed, opening at the outline of a spotlit ribcage, lists of thefts enter
Poem for circulation
Things surrounding things fill my Wicked Tuna grid heart with a swishy austerity-like intention. I cut my post-fleshy
Let Us Sample Protection Together
When I was little I cut off the heads of many lords. I can't count on the energy that took to rise in me at will, but I've strengthened my ability to make a
Have A Good One [Just wasted]
Just wasted and taking it. In life I rally constantly.
Have A Good One [In the error]
In the error thinking of non-intervention with you. A red sun (don't look) pokes
Poem for circulation
Things surrounding things
fill my Wicked Tuna grid
heart with a swishy austerity-like
intention. I cut my post-fleshy
forearms & bleed a serious parallel
echo chamber reading everything