LSU Press, 2011 . . . a plunk; a stumble; and now the pianist at last nails the Tschaikovsky. All at once the crazyquilt colors of practice clothes collude kaleidoscopically, the dance obliterates mere muscle, heavy lifting translates to flight, and sublime locker room aromas float off the dancers, wafting our way to settle on us like perfume. From “Rehearsal in Summer” Cover: Maria Kowroski in Serenade. Photo © Paul Kolnik. New York City Ballet Production, choreography by George Balanchine
LSU Press, 2014 Speculation spreads like a cellist’s knees; she’s like no other, mirroring each mere word she reads, so what she reflects is mystery. I ache for her to apprehend me, perfected in her jewels’ white light stupid as a star, or to swing her eyes suddenly up at me— I’d enter their reflection, her deep mirror. That’s the world to live in, all in her head. From “The Mirror” Cover: Jan van Eyck, detail, The Ghent Altarpiece, oil on panel, 1432.
Word Works, 1995 . . . feeling a pang as she held hands with her husband, I saw felicity in Passions of the Renaissance as well as in a double play, in the curves of Samothrace or Koufax or her exquisitely made thigh. From "Aesthetics" Cover: Lance Richbourg, George Bell, oil on canvas, 1990. Collection of Peter John Goulandris.
LSU Press, 2011 . . . a plunk; a stumble; and now the pianist at last nails the Tschaikovsky. All at once the crazyquilt colors of practice clothes collude kaleidoscopically, the dance obliterates mere muscle, heavy lifting translates to flight, and sublime locker room aromas float off the dancers, wafting our way to settle on us like perfume. From “Rehearsal in Summer” Cover: Maria Kowroski in Serenade. Photo © Paul Kolnik. New York City Ballet Production, choreography by George Balanchine
. . . a plunk; a stumble; and now the pianist
at last nails the Tschaikovsky. All at once
the crazyquilt colors of practice clothes
collude kaleidoscopically, the dance
obliterates mere muscle, heavy lifting
translates to flight, and sublime locker room
aromas float off the dancers, wafting
our way to settle on us like perfume.
From “Rehearsal in Summer”
Jay Rogoff
Photo: Megan Mumford
“I'm a testimonial. Click to edit me and add text that says something nice about you and your services."
Dawkins & Dodger Architecture
“[Rogoff’s] poetry takes a visible art of movement and translates the feelings it evokes and the history it records into delicate words. . . . But Rogoff also has an amazing knack for the humor in humanity, as a slew of death-defying poems demonstrates.”
-The Advocate