Poetry and Writing

Ingrid’s poetry has appeared in a number of literary journals; you can find her work in the publications listed below. She runs an online writers group, Swirl and Swing, and is currently completing a manuscript of poetry and a novel.

Her poem, Bess Houdini Contemplates Her Marriage, 1921, reprinted below, won the 17th Annual Poet’s Seat Poetry Contest in 2008. Her short story, Trepanning, was a finalist in the 2001 Glimmer Train’s Very Short Fiction Award. Ingrid has also co-authored professional publications for the Wallace Foundation, an article on comparative survey methodologies in Strategic Health Care Marketing, and an article on conjoint analysis in Marketing Health Services (forthcoming).

Publications:

• “The Tao of Dow” Boxcar Poetry Review. July, 2009.
• “After Pleasure Island“  The Literary Bohemian. Issue 6. August 2009.
• “The Location of Home” The Literary Bohemian. Issue 6. August 2009.
• “Memory” Literary Mama. August, 2009.
• “A Microorganism Walks Into A Bar” Umbrella. June 2009.
• “Monet’s Shadow” Ellipsis. Vol. 45. Spring 2009.
• Interview as featured poet, ouroboros review.  Issue one, December 2008.
• “Lines Composed After Googling Old Lovers” ouroboros review. Issue one, December 2008.
• “The Poets Online” ouroboros review. Issue one, December 2008.
• “An Ouroboros of Information” ouroboros review. Issue one, December 2008.
• “Untitled,” postal poetry. December 9, 2008.
• “the trouble with ceiling solar systems” postal poetry. January 27, 2009.
• “How to Balance an Elephant on the Tip of Your Nose” Red Rock Review. Issue 23. Fall 2008.
• “Life List” Red Rock Review. Issue 23. Fall 2008.
• “Aegis” Willow Review. Vol. XXXV. Spring 2008.
• “Although I Was Not Catholic” Willow Review. Vol. XXXV. Spring 2008.
• “The Travelers” Willow Review. Vol. XXXV. Spring 2008.
• “Bess Houdini Contemplates Her Marriage, 1921” The Recorder. Thursday May 1, 2008.
• “Mid-March, Northampton, Massachusetts” Tightrope. Vol. XVI. 1999.
• “Mesa Verde” River Oak Review. No. 12. Spring 1999.
• “Moon Over Kagoshima” River Oak Review. No. 12. Spring 1999.
• “Swimming” New Delta Review. Vol. 16, No. 1. Fall/Winter 1998.
• “Sunday Night at the Alligator Grill.” Poet Lore. Volume 93, No. 2. Summer 1998.
• “Up From The Deep.” Rattle. Issue 9, Summer 1998.
• “Ex-Con Returns to Alcatraz” Reed Magazine. Volume 51. Spring 1998.
• “Bonnie Parker Makes Breakfast by the Rio Grande, 1932” The Seattle Review. Volume XX, Number 1. 1998.
• “Joan of Arc and Mata Hari Go Shopping.” The Southern Anthology. 1997/1998.
• “Eating Artichokes” Poem. Number 78. November 1997.
• “First Snow” Poem. Number 78. November 1997.
• “Learning to Sleep” Poem. Number 78. November 1997.
• “Crash” Shoestring. (online) 1997
• “Fish Charmer” Shoestring. (online) 1997.
• “Morgue, 1972” Shoestring. (online) 1997.
• “Swimming” Shoestring. (online) 1997.
• “Defending Michael, Leaving Home” Protea Poetry Journal. Issue 5, Spring 1990.

Bess Houdini Contemplates Her Marriage, 1921

How could she help loving him,
the way he looked the night they met,
a rose in his teeth, pulling coins
from behind her ear? Two weeks later
they were married, Bess eying the ring

as he slipped it on her finger, afraid
he might make it disappear. He takes her breath away,
another one of his tricks; he bends his wrist
at her as if she were a white dove,
and down she falls onto the narrow bed. She watches

for signs of restlessness, hoping the kisses
he places in rows on her forehead each morning
are not another illusion; for how could she make him stay?
Before every stunt she clips a lock of his hair
and sews it to the inside of her garter with silk thread,

as if anything could keep him here.
Each minute he is wrenching from the cuffs
and fighting his way free, her hands are clasped
together, her fingers interlocking, prayers
slipping from her lips like a deck of cards

falling to the floor. When he returns, she opens
her body like a silk scarf, so generous
it could unwind for miles. His eyes
close to her sometimes,
as if his empty hands cannot continue

producing fire, doves, rabbits, flowers, coins
from nothingness. She does not wish to be the lock,
the box, the underwater packing crate.
She wants to be the lid that lifts itself to light,
the promise of air, the key.

(c) Ingrid Steblea

Appeared in The Recorder, April 2008