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Read e-book online Bird Skin Coat (Brittingham Prize in Poetry) PDF

By Angela Sorby

ISBN-10: 0299231909

ISBN-13: 9780299231903

ISBN-10: 0299231933

ISBN-13: 9780299231934

ISBN-10: 0299231941

ISBN-13: 9780299231941

Chook pores and skin Coat is brimming with startling moments of good looks came upon inside a rusty and decayed panorama. With wild lyrical photos of ascent and descent—doves and dives, sparrows and slugs, attics and cellars—this assortment displays Sorby’s willing eye for mixing photographs. As they trip among the higher Midwest and the Pacific Northwest, those poems discover how the novel instability of the area is additionally the resource of its energy.  Honorable point out, Posner Book-Length Poetry Award, Council for Wisconsin Writers  Winner, top e-book of Poetry, Midwest booklet Awards Winner, Lorine Niedecker Poetry Award, Council for Wisconsin Writers

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They X his name off their kid-party guest lists. They are totally. Fucking. Meticulous. What can I do but coax him over the embers? And if he cries (he will) I’ll say walk faster. 35 INSOMNIA I’m not surprised to find myself awake. I want to dial dead people long distance: Tante Kitty, Sheila Bender, David Lee. My husband is breathing evenly, his skin a sleeping bag zipped around his chin. In the daytime, too, he moves with an ease that is not contagious. Be happy, he says, as if giving directions for plain paper recycling.

Once in the Age of Vinyl, heat warped Led Zeppelin beyond salvation. The rec room ceiling carpet matched the floor. Our parents wrote notes: Please excuse my child as she is flying to Sun Valley. Nothing mattered. We jumped from tree to tree. Please excuse my child as she is simian and may regress to an earlier stage of evolution. My friend Thompson locked himself in the golf course shed with a revolver. ” But there were no meters, no markers, no maps. Far off in France, Jacques Lacan sketched the Real in dense prose meant to fend off readers.

KEN KNAPP, “THE CAMELS OF CAPE VERDE” i. On Fridays we walked, Bryan and Mark and me, behind the L-shaped stadium, talking about the kids from our high school who put Nick Drake on their car stereo and drove off a bridge. Two deaths: glam, we agreed. Above our heads, the national anthem was both flat and sharp. The crowd roared like a rocket taking off, though God knows the stadium stayed put. It stayed for the long haul, its bent L the beginning of some grander word: Lorca, Laceration, Lariat— or maybe not.

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Bird Skin Coat (Brittingham Prize in Poetry) by Angela Sorby

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