At the heart of this unusually accomplished and affecting first book of poetry is the idea of the hinge the point of connection, of openings and closings. Maggie Dietz situates herself in the liminal present, bringing together past and future, dream and waking, death and life. Formally exact, rigorous, and tough, these poems accept no easy answers or equations. Dietz creates a world alive with detail and populated with the everyday and strange: amusement-park horses named Virgil and Sisyphus, squirrels hanging over tree branches like fish. By turns humorous and pained, direct and...
At the heart of this unusually accomplished and affecting first book of poetry is the idea of the hinge the point of connection, of openings and closi...
October Aubade If I slept too long, forgive me. A north wind quickened the window frames so the room pitched like a moving train and the pillow's whiff of hickory and shaving soap conjured your body beside me. So I slept in the berth as the train chuffed on, unburdened by waking's cold water, ignorant of pain, estrangement, hunger and the crucial fuel the boiler burned to keep the minutes' pistons churning while I slept. Forgive me. That Kind of Happy, the long-awaited second collection by award-winning poet Maggie...
October Aubade If I slept too long, forgive me. A north wind quickened the window frames so the room pitched like a moving train ...
