World Enough Writers Anthology Editor: Patricia Fargnoli
See some of Pat's poems at The Poetry Foundation.
Patricia Fargnoli is an award-winning American poet and retired psychotherapist. She was the New Hampshire Laureate from December 2006 to March 2009.
Fargnoli's books of poetry include Necessary Light (Utah State University Press, 1999), winner of the May Swenson Book Award; Lives of Others (Oyster River Press, 2001); Small Songs of Pain (Pecan Grove Press, 2003); Duties of the Spirit (Tupelo Press, 2005) which won the Jane Kenyon Literary Award for Outstanding Poetry by a New Hampshire poet, Then, Something (also from Tupelo Press, 2009), Winter (Hobblebush Granite State Poetry, 2013), and most recently, Hallowed (Tupelo Press, 2017).
She is the recipient of a fellowship from the MacDowell Colony. Her poems have appeared in magazines and literary journals including Poetry, Ploughshares, Prairie Schooner, The Indiana Review, Mid-American Review, Nimrod, and others.
Fargnoli is an alumna of Trinity College, Hartford College for Women, and the University of Connecticut School of Social Work. She has served as an Associate Editor of The Worcester Review, and taught at The Frost Place, the NH Institute of Art and in the Lifelong Learning Program at Keene State College. A resident of Walpole, New Hampshire, she is a member of the New Hampshire Arts Council Touring Roster and of the New Hampshire Writers Project.
Poem from Ice Cream Poems: reflections on life with ice cream
by Michael Meyerhofer
ICE CREAM Ancient Persians made poetry by pouring grape juice over snow. Later, they used rose water, ice mixed with saffron. The Arabs were the first to add milk and sugar, though the Chinese used saltpeter to chill their poems into sorbet. Nowadays, poetry can be served in little dishes with sprinkles at parties and buffets, savored by the rich and poor alike, though the best method remains to pour your poetry in a waffle cone and let it bleed its words all over your lap. If someone notices, feign embarrassment and tell them you have to go home and change, but really, wear that stain for as long and as proudly as you can. It is a boon. It is a blessing. And every passing snicker—a sign that you are half an emperor.