Mary Di Lucia lives and works in New York City, where she teaches writing, and works as a developmental editor. Her poetry manuscript is called “Beauty Russe.”
Mary Di Lucia
Mary Di Lucia: Policy on Letters
I want you to know I am unable to write back to you Though they are kind here There is no shortage of pencils or level surfaces There are no midges The ice is only merely bothersome No matter what you think, that I am cold that I wanted something else It’s simply that we […]
Mary Di Lucia: The Pleasure of It
We left no footprints because we cleared them off after us, with mighty brooms. For the entire second half of the expedition, we walked backwards sweeping, facing what we were leaving reeling and unreeling. The meteors also moved left to right, a tribute. It was as if we were not there, that is how there […]
Mary Di Lucia: Failure
You were not expecting it to happen so quickly; the whole time you were preparing it passed by your house on a varnished sled whose runner was an old rocking horse. The harness was your missing shoelace. How right you took the time to fret about the nature of the anorak and sought an inflammable […]