As a collection of poetry and prose, Phantoms as Euphemisms for Disaster explores the many faces of loss. Not only the loss of love, but loss of language, culture, identity and self. The book seamlessly navigates the silences between harrowing conversations, to realizations about growing up, about grief and how to deal with loss, to the reawakening of tenderness, hope and awareness in the innate power of self. This is a fantastic collection for anyone who appreciates a unique voice, beautiful language and the ache and sweetness that is living.
As a collection of poetry and prose, Phantoms as Euphemisms for Disaster explores the many faces of loss. Not only the loss of love, but loss of langu...
Here is emptiness. Here is a mouth after a recent excavation, black with soot, devoid of kisses. Here are hands, trembling against the soft ache of morning, here are eyes, wet, wide, half-full of sky and loneliness. Here is belly, back, femur, spine, ragged and smooth all at once, all at once. Here are dreams, ink black and speckled, lost behind the eyes. Here is a muted elegy, crow's feet feathered over the eyes like lace. Here are the last strains of a dirge, wild, discordant, free.
Here is emptiness. Here is a mouth after a recent excavation, black with soot, devoid of kisses. Here are hands, trembling against the soft ache of mo...