Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Monday, January 17, 2011

All-Night Lingo Tango (Pitt Poetry Series)

All-Night Lingo Tango (Pitt Poetry Series) Review


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All-Night Lingo Tango (Pitt Poetry Series) Feature

This collection is a love letter to language with poems that are drunk and filled with references to the hyperkinetic world of the twenty-first century. Yet Zeus and Hera tangle with Leda on the interstate; Ava Gardner becomes a Hindu princess; and Shiva, the Destroyer, reigns over all. English is the primary god here, with its huge vocabulary and omnivorous gluttony for new words, yet the mystery of the alphabet is behind everything, a funky puppet masterwho can make a new world out of nothing.


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Friday, January 7, 2011

The Many Woods of Grief: Poems (Juniper Prize for Poetry)

The Many Woods of Grief: Poems (Juniper Prize for Poetry) Review


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The Many Woods of Grief: Poems (Juniper Prize for Poetry) Feature

In this striking debut volume, Lucas Farrell offers a lyrical and illuminating field guide to the flora and fauna of worlds just out of reach. With the precision and detail of an Audubon sketch, he turns his naturalist s eye to the vast landscape of human emotion all the while affirming how real this world we live in / must be to live in.

Journeying ever outward, from the achingly ordinary to the mysterious land where there is no land, the narrator of this collection, equal parts pastoralist and surrealist, explores the vivid in-betweens between love and loss, hilarity and despair, wild and domestic, real and imagined. Hungry, expressive, and original, these poems glean light from even the darkest of fields.From "Further Along Now"Further along the curves of gesture, the delicateapostrophe, in the tongues of muted suns, we'll findourselves in a clearing, in a meadow of ancient grass,picking apart what has long been picked apart. Furtheralong, the compliments, the tweezers and logic, thelaboratory of hard hats and felt pens and hard headsand clipboards hanging from sky's bloody fender, birddroppings steaming calligraphic so long as the cloudsbecome clouds become clouds and amazed we see insuch preventable warfare our own substancesunchanging. Fountains of ash too diffuse to interpret,too complex to diagnose, I quote the many woods ofgrief, too far alone, too deep.


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