A Post-Apollo Press reprint published by Litmus Press
Keith Waldrop was born in Kansas and served in the United States military. He studied at Aix-Marseille and Michigan Universities, earning a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature in 1964. His first book of poetry, A Windmill Near Calvary (University of Michigan, 1968), was nominated for a National Book Award. He is the author of numerous collections of poetry, most recently The Not Forever [Inventions] (Omnidawn 2013). Waldrop has received an award from the Fund for Poetry, fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Berlin Artists Program of the DAAD, and a Medal from the French government with Rank of Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Letters. He currently lives in Providence, Rhode Island, where he teaches at Brown University, and has served as co-editor of Burning Deck Press, with his wife Rosmarie Waldrop, since 1968.
In 1935, Rosmarie Waldrop was born in Kitzingen am Main, Germany, where she studied literature and musicology at the University of Würzburg and the University of Freiburg. In the late 1950s, Waldrop immigrated to America where she received a PhD from the University of Michigan and started Burning Deck Magazine with her husband, Keith Waldrop. The magazine eventually grew into Burning Deck Press, which continues to publish contemporary poetry in the U.S.
Waldrop’s work as a translator has played a vital role in her life as a poet; she has published more than 20 translations in German and French, in addition to over 20 titles of poetry, prose, and essays she has authored. In 1993, the French government named Waldrop “Chevalier des Arts et des lettres.” Other honors include awards and fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Fund for Poetry, and the Harold Morton Landon Translation Award, among others.
Waldrop has taught at Wesleyan, Tufts, and Brown University. She currently lives in Providence, Rhode Island.
I once read a psychologist who talked about "peak-
experiences," meaning moments of "total attention" where
is everything and the ground is, if perceived at
all, minimal. There are also, of course, moments
when the light and dark of bodies fits the random
detail of curtain or branch or Chinese
so well that even the face of a giantess grinning through waves
is right. It takes us months to get our pictures put up.