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"Love Letter to Who Owns the Heavens considers the way that the absence of touch-in acts of war via the drone, in acts of love via the sext, in aesthetics itself-abstracts the human body, transforming it into a proxy for the real. "What love poem / could be written when men can no longer / look up?" this book asks, always in a state of flux between doubt and belief-in wars, in gods, in fathers, in love. Through epistolary addresses to these figures of power and others, these poems attempt to make bodies concrete and dangerous, immediate and addressable, once again"--
"Reader, I draws its title from the conclusion to Charlotte Brontèe's Jane Eyre: "Reader, I married him." Spanning the first years of a marriage, the speaker in Reader, I both courts and eschews nuptial myths, as its speaker--tender and callous, skeptical and hopeful, daughter and lover--finds a role for herself in marriage, in history, in something beyond the self. While these poems burn with a Plathian fire, they also address and invite in a reader who is, as in Jane Eyre, a confidant. Steeped in a world of husbands and fathers, patriarchal nations and power structures, Reader, I traverses bowling alleys and hospital rooms, ancient Troy and public swimming pools, to envision domestic life as a metaphor for civic life, and vice versa"--
Abonner på vårt nyhetsbrev og få rabatter og inspirasjon til din neste leseopplevelse.
Ved å abonnere godtar du vår personvernerklæring.