Biography of Cynthia Cruz
Cynthia Cruz is a contemporary American poet. Her first collection of poems, Ruin, was published by Alice James Books in 2006, and reviewed by The New York Times Sunday Book Review, Library Journal and received a starred review from Publishers Weekly. Her second collection "The Glimmering Room" published by Four Way Books and launched at the contemporary art gallery Hansel and Gretel Picture Garden, was also reviewed by the New York Times alongside the poet C. K. Williams. She has published poems in numerous literary journals and magazines including The New Yorker AGNI, The American Poetry Review, Boston Review, Denver Quarterly, Guernica and The Paris Review, and in anthologies including Isn't it Romantic: 100 Love Poems by Younger Poets (Wave Books, 2004), and The Iowa Anthology of New American Poetries, edited by poet Reginald Shepherd (University of Iowa Press, 2004). She is the recipient of fellowships from Yaddo, the MacDowell Colony, and Princeton University. In 2010 she was the Hodder Fellow in Poetry at Princeton University.
Cruz currently teaches writing at Sarah Lawrence College. She has previously taught at the Juilliard School, Fordham University, the Rutgers-Newark MFA Program and Eugene Lang College. Born in Germany, Cruz grew up in northern California, where she earned her B.A. at Mills College. She earned her M.F.A. at Sarah Lawrence College and is currently studying Art Writing & Criticism at the School of Visual Arts. She has published essays, book and art reviews in the LA Review of Books, Hyperallergic, the American Poetry Review, and the Rumpus. She is an art editor at Guernica Magazine. She currently lives in Brooklyn.
Cynthia Cruz Poems
I crawl along the wet floor Of my mother's childhood,
In the rooms of a rundown palace You said, Ruined. You said, Princess.
Death is a beige Mercedes sedan. I am five and riding In the back,
Twelve in Yellow-Weed at the Edge
Then, the police arrive — they don't find me. I'm disguised as a boy in a champagne wig And hid inside the gold rattle of a warm Appalachia wind.
In the middle of the night, father Brought me a falcon.
I did not want my body Spackled in the world's Black beads and broke
The child is not dead. She is sleeping.
Kingdom of Dirt
Soon the ambassadors from the Netherworld Will begin
Guidebooks for the Dead
Mother's crimson leather bags Crammed with saint cards And tiny glass bottles of liquor.
The child is not dead.
She is sleeping.
Gone from this world
Which is broken.
The angel of Michael
Outside the garden
His circle of fire