Martha Zweig's work has received the Hopwood Award, and Pushcart, Best-of-the-Web and Kingsley-Tufts nominations. Some of her poems appear in anthologies including Roads Taken, Sydney Lea and Chard deNiord; Ravishing DisUnities, Agha Shahid Ali, and I Feel a Little Jumpy Around You, Naomi Shihab Nye and Paul B. Janeczco. Her full-length collections are Get Lost (DHP 2020), winner of the Rousseau Prize for Literature; Monkey Lightning (Tupelo Press, 2010); What Kind (Wesleyan University Press, 2003) and Vinegar Bone (Wesleyan University Press, 1999). Her chapbooks are A Skirmish of Harks (Jacar Press e-book, 2021) and Powers (the Vermont Arts Council, 1976). Her poems have appeared in journals, among them Boston Review; The Progressive; Crazyhorse; Field; Ploughshares; The Kenyon Review; The Gettysburg Review; The Virginia Quarterly Review, The Paris Review and Verse Daily online. She received her MFA from Warren Wilson College in 1998 and grew up in suburban New Jersey. A participant in the semi-revolutionary turmoil of the 1960’s, she has lived in Hardwick, Vermont, since 1974. She worked 10 years handling garments at a nearby pajama factory, including a term as shop chairlady for the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union, and another 10 years as an advocate for seniors with the nonprofit Area Agency on Aging. She has volunteered at an animal shelter and for Restorative Justice, and spends an hour every week on the street holding signs on various issues.
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Vinegar BonePoemsFrom"Questioning the Sex Killer"
He did it deliberately &
so when the police tracked him down he was
able to explain it so
clearly they had to
agree. Still, they hadn’t done it.
Anyway, he’d checked it out &
it was what they’d suspected,
women! – women just
opened & spilled, there was
nothing special in there after all.
Vinegar Bone:Poems -
Vinegar BonePoemsFrom"Healing"
It can happen anytime.
A cut simply closes. The edges
join like two spills.
Cramped up in hiding
the felon watches his gut wound
out of his keenest eyes.
How did it get in?
All the ransacked
rooms never shocked any
householder more. But it heals
like drawers that pull themselves back
in, fold and straighten their layers out
smooth and seed the wet new
jewelry in between:
strings, clusters, studded clasps.
So the rich man
will handle the skin of the rich wife again.
Vinegar Bone:Poems -
Vinegar BonePoemsFrom"Mother, Daughter"
She got out of me
a new body, and nicer;
when her fists open up
her hands show luckier lines
and she is no woman.
She’s got my death in her life,
cross, gossiping oaks,
but that is not what I hate:
she’ll die, you trees will, we can
wring stones’ throats too, if we want. It’s that
now she’s growing, she doubles and triples herself
while in me eggs only
gather my blood
and pinch out one by one
to be somebody else or nothing.
Vinegar Bone:Poems