Stephen Dunn (June 24, 1939) has won all the big prizes -- well, not a Nobel. But he got a Pulitzer for the 2001 volume of poetry: Different Hours. He had once been a success at Nabisco, writing stuff. And threw it away, and moved his family to Spain, to see if he could make it as an artist. Here's the opening to a poem in his book What Goes On: Selected and New Poems 1995-2009 (2010)
Her name Isadora, and, like all cats,
she was a machine made of rubber bands
and muscle, exemplar of crouch
and pounce, genius of leisure....
These lines are from "Burying The Cat."
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