Today, just several weeks later, I am sitting in a garden at Pomona College listening to her family, colleagues, and friends extoll the very light of which I caught a glimpse. You will be touched, too, if you pick up her book, Harm, from this website or from Amazon. Here are some poems and readings I found of Hillary on the web.
Poems
http://www.octopusmagazine.com/Issue10/Gravendyk.htm
http://www.likestarlings.com/poems/cynthia-arrieu-king-hillary-gravendyk/
http://inlandiajournal.org/2011/08/10/hillary-gravendyk/
http://www.achiotepress.com/naturalist.htm
Readings / Interviews
http://vimeo.com/39807194
http://vimeo.com/30935449
http://www.yovisto.com/video/12124
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/onword/2012/04/04/the-blood-jet-writing-hour-with-guest-hillary-gravendyk
Reviews
http://www.publishersweekly.com/978-1-890650-56-8
http://www.thevolta.org/fridayfeature-harm.html
http://thermosmag.wordpress.com/2012/03/24/of-durations-of-endurances-interview-with-hillary-gravendyk/
http://lareviewofbooks.org/review/bodies-in-pain
http://kulturindustrie.blogspot.com/2012/03/hillary-gravendyk-harm.html
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“Harm”
Ahead the sky is winnowed to its smallest feature. Starred with damage,
the body. What was promised, what was revealed. A long staircase of
wounds. Behind: unseen error. Or accident. Harm winking on, a neon
sign that says closed. Pain glued to each window. The rooms shadowed with
harm. You offered anxiety, a harness made from care. Curved handle, in-
tention. Harm a kind of adhesive. Skin clusters around the opening,
ridged and thick. There are lighter and darker marks. They disclose. Pa-
per echo, gesture. Bleakness along the spine of narrative. Harm flat as a
swept floor. As a drawn planet. A bright story is requested. What will be
touched? Machines, that flashing support, a threaded needle. And the
body, sutured to harm.
