![](https://image.librarything.com/pics/fugue21/magnifier-left.png)
![](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/P/1933959231.01._SX180_SCLZZZZZZZ_.jpg)
Klik op een omslag om naar Google Boeken te gaan.
Bezig met laden... I Want to Make You Safedoor Amy King
Geen Bezig met laden...
![]() Meld je aan bij LibraryThing om erachter te komen of je dit boek goed zult vinden. Op dit moment geen Discussie gesprekken over dit boek. geen besprekingen | voeg een bespreking toe
Poetry. LGBT Studies. "Amy King's poems seem to encompass all that we think of as the 'natural' world, i.e., sex, sun, love, rotting, hatching, dreaming, especially in the wonderful long poem 'This Opera of Peace.' She brings these abstractions to brilliant, jagged life, emerging into rather than out of the busyness of living: 'Let the walls bear up the angle of the floor, / Let the mice be tragic for all that is caged, / Let time's contagion mar us / until spoken people lie as particles of wind'."—John Ashbery Geen bibliotheekbeschrijvingen gevonden. |
Actuele discussiesGeen
![]() GenresDewey Decimale Classificatie (DDC)811.6Literature English (North America) American poetry 21st CenturyLC-classificatieWaarderingGemiddelde:![]()
|
A gleaning of lines that caught my attention:
"so many soldiers on the brink of their lives returning"
"we rankle in the dunes and subject our thoughts/ to religion's aftermath"
"This immersion has made me a model/ for your captivity digest"
"Such went the days of wizened mass surprise"
"In fact, the sky has stopped"
"We shook hands in the language we meant/ to speak"
"Now go,/ revel in the lips of your country"
"they took the wrong ghost home"
"We stand as weeds in motion"
"Between blows, we'll mate."
"We do, the big beautiful bees of us, pulling the veins in our wings,/ smoking light through antennae ends we're sure/ could reach another form of life when it comes/ down to us."
"We seed through the hush, rising from earth,/ orchestras through flame."
"We go/ to the flames of what stirs/ the breath from its regular/ motion"
"I'm carrying a baby/ wren beneath my tongue/ in the hollow of my head/ back to you, you who/ are the heart of the awl/ and the climb on which/ I mount my last breath" (