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Poets of astonishing vision are rare. Mary Ruefle is of their number. Her poems discover the full beauty and anguish of life that most of us dare not see, much less depict in luminous detail for the ages.
"Finally I start to get dressed/ and when she's lying on the bed she says/ your capacity for suffering is infinite - / how much fun we could have had if it was not -"
Indeed I was Pleased with the World | 
