It’s said that spirit lasts, and that the flesh,
Inconsequential in a grave or ditch,
No longer cares to lord it over, mesh
With spirit; that it matters not much which
Has triumphed. Yet, when hair and nails still grow
You have to cogitate on why they do.
What purpose is there to it? Dead don’t go
To manicurists, slick their hair with goo.
Perhaps it’s only habit makes that suit
Of bone and muscle give a final try,
While spirit takes off on a better route
Which ends at that grand palace in the sky—
Refuting any automatic action
Which ultimately leads to putrefaction.
- A former Wilbur Fellow and six-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007, she has published three books, Measured By Song, Making Music.
As one of two finalists in the 2013 Aldrich Press Poetry Book Award, Cook was awarded publication of the manuscript for The View From Here, her third book
I During Poetry Week 2014, The Poetry Collecftion at SUNYAB, Buffalo, published Cook’s chapbook of her work.
Poems and essays by Sally Cook have appeared in numerous magazines and journals such as Blue Unicorn, Chronicles, First Things, The Formalist Portal, Light Quarterly, Lighten Up Online, National Review, Pennsylvania Review, Trinacria and other venues, both print and electronic.
The poet is also a painter of Magic Realist paintings. She began as an exhibitor in Manhattan’s Tenth Street Co-operative Galleries, moved into geometrics and went on from there. Her work has been exhibited at many leading galleries and museums and represented in national collections.