Biography of Michael Meyerhofer
Michael Meyerhofer’s book, 'Leaving Iowa', won the Liam Rector First Book Award and is available from
www.amazon.com. His second book, 'Blue Collar Eulogies', is forthcoming from Steel Toe Press. He is also the author of four chapbooks-'Cardboard Urn', 'The Right Madness of Beggars', 'The Clay-Shaper's Husband', and the forthcoming 'Real Courage'. His work has appeared in Ploughshares, Arts & Letters, River Styx, North American Review, Green Mountains Review, MARGIE, Southern Poetry Review, Big Muddy, Flyway, Free Lunch, Diagram, and others. He recently won the James Wright Poetry Award, the Laureate Prize, and the Annie Finch Poetry Prize.
Michael Meyerhofer's Works:
Leaving Iowa (available on Amazon.com)
The Clay-Shaper's Husband (Codhill Press)
Real Courage (Jeane Duval Editions)
The Right Madness of Beggars (Uccelli Press)
Cardboard Urn (available on Amazon.com)
Michael Meyerhofer Poems
After the funeral, your hair and skin baked to ash, your body brought back in a gray box
After Watching The Texas Chainsaw Massac...
In real life, there was no chainsaw. Nor was there a blood-sucking grandfather carried down the stairs in his wheelchair by a family of bumpkin cannibals.
Forget the wrestlers with quick- silver torsos and Spartan shoulders, the sheen of cornstalks like secrets
A Knight In Cross-Section
He ends, of course, with armor like an iron cast of rivets and seams, the shield hewn from a living tree, his spear with its phallic handle
Building The House
With each day, I feel more the weight of what must be said. The sentences no poem has touched. The joy and strife buried in the ground
Poem Written By An Evolutionist Who Beli...
They say there are more people living now on this earth than have ever lived before which means, in terms of reincarnation, that some of the people we pass on streets
Death, The First Time
I was seven, running across the ice when I slipped and cracked my skull, blood bursting like crimson novas
Poem For My Grandfather
My grandfather touches my arm and asks me on this, the night
My Mother Sent Me
a text message from her coffin. It said Glad you're not here.
The Man With Half An Ear Gets His Hair C...
The blond, plump-faced hairdresser describes the hickeys she found on her boyfriend’s neck and chest, knows they’re not from her,
The Trouble With Hammers
The trouble with owning hammers is that you have to store them somewhere, on pegs or at least in a drawer or inside an emptied out tackle box,
What Passed Unsaid
Midnight at a dinner party, fourth bottle of wine opened and leaning on ice, you are discussing Genesis and
This is where we went wrong: that first day, eons back, after humans draped in hair or animal skins
Lessons In Sexual Attraction
Because my ex-fiancée fell in love with the ass of a mocha-skinned soccer player who came from Brazil to Northwestern,
came eventually to a cattle ranch where,
saying little, he took work
and that night, sitting down at dinner
one of the cowboys asked
what he did:
I’m a poet, he answered.
They looked at him.
You didn’t get arms like that writing poems
one of them said
to which he smiled
It was a heavy pen.