Welcome to our book review site go-pdf.online!
You may have to Search all our reviewed books and magazines, click the sign up button below to create a free account.
The Paris of Appalachia
- Whitest large metro area in the counrty -- Deer people.
Fat
Selected from the past twenty years of W. S. Di Piero's prose writings, Fat displays the range and intensity that caused Poetry magazine to call him "probably the most consistently compelling and idiosyncratic prose writer among contemporary American poets." Ranging from a response to 9/11 and reflections on fatherhood, food, and music, to reconsiderations of Robert Browning, James Schuyler, and other poets, to reviews of old master artists like Rembrandt and Bellini as well as modern figures like Bill Traylor and Robert Mapplethorpe, these pieces provoke and tease out the meanings of contemporary life and the legacies of the past.
Disturbing the Light
Through the course of numerous books, Samuel Green has established his primary poetic preoccupations, and in Disturbing the Light, he continues to mine them, addressing rituals and work in a small, isolated, rural community; the influence of the past on the present, especially in families; and the nature and evolution of a love that has spanned five decades. Added to these themes is something new: Poems written in response to symptoms of late onset PTSD. Though Green's Coast Guard service in Vietnam ended in the fall of 1969, memories have returned recently in vivid, disturbing details, amplified by the haunting knowledge that civilians in Southeast Asia are still, today, suffering death and injury from unexploded ordnance left over from that war. A powerful collection that reminds us that our past is always with us, even as we attend carefully to the present, Disturbing the Light is a masterwork from a poet at the height of his powers.
Witches Vanish
In a series of stylized, highly visual vignettes employing puppetry, poetry, and surrealism, the Weird Sisters from Macbeth explore the stories of women who disappear, whether by choice or force. Inspired by history, astronomy, and Shakespeare, Witches Vanish examines the nature of change and the value of human life.
Black Sea
New Poetry
Oh You Robot Saints!
Part bestiary, part litany, part elegy, Rebecca Morgan Frank's Oh You Robot Saints! is populated by a strange menagerie of early automata and robots, including octobots and an eighteenth-century digesting duck, set alongside medieval mechanical virgins and robot priests. From a riveting robobee sonnet sequence that links weapons of war and industrial fixes for infertility to a microdrama sketching out a missing Sophocles play on the mythical bronze man, Talos, these muscular poems blur and sing the lines between machines and the divine. This lyrical exploration of the ongoing human desire to create life navigates wonder and grief, joining the uncanny investigation of what it is to be, to make, and to be made.
Any God Will Do
"There are no machine guns, or cameras, here." Any God Will Do is a collection that investigates the lines between worldliness and asceticism, belief and delusion, chance and design, desire and its transcendence. Internal and end rhyme structure these pithy and compact poems that are rife with classical, pop culture, and poetic allusions. They culminate in an argument that intimacy and creation through language are not only possible within a capitalist framework, but indeed may be the only ballasts we know.
This Long Winter
"This Long Winter contains poems that are meditations on life in the rural world: reflections on hard work, aging, and the ravages of time-erasures that Sutphen attempts to ameliorate with her careful attention to language. These poems move us from delight in precise description to wisdom and solace in the things of this world. Noticing its details, the snowflakes, clementines, the lilies, the cardinal's call, is the key for this momentary stay against time that comes at us in a rush. The many mirror images in these poems point to the complexity and hard, loving work of really living in the world. And now, in the deep mid-winter, deep in the enforced slowdown of this pandemic, we need these poems to help us know what to do with the past and how to live and how to love"--
We Were Once Here
New Poetry
My Second Work
"The soul remembers all of this. How I swept the floor / with my golden hair. How I fed it watermelon and wine / from a porcelain dish. How I called it teacher and it called me teacher's pet." Metaphysical in concern and hypermodern in tone, Bridget Lowe returns in this appropriately titled, much-anticipated second collection, determined as ever to make meaning from the perversity of suffering. My Second Work is rare in its ability to be both completely idiosyncratic and widely resonant, as Lowe transforms experiences of shame, disgust, and bewilderment into a kind of mutant hope. Poems in this collection have appeared in the New Yorker and Poetry and were honored by the Poetry Society of America.
