About The Book I Stole…

So about that book… that I uh… ‘borrowed’.

Just kidding, it will be put back safe and sound next week (most likely).

You see here, Maria Lima is my adviser — and never have I ever had a meeting on time with her. This is a fortunate thing, because it allows me to browse the Welles/English Department library. I always noticed the books on the shelf, but never actually got up to take one down. This past Wednesday was different. I found an April 2016 Poetry Magazine — and started reading. The poetry was extremely refreshing. I want to talk specifically about my favorite poem in the magazine, which I am pasting below.

A Little Closer to the Edge

Young enough to believe nothing
will change them, they step, hand-in-hand,
into the bomb crater. The night full
of  black teeth. His faux Rolex, weeks
from shattering against her cheek, now dims
like a miniature moon behind her hair.
In this version the snake is headless — stilled
like a cord unraveled from the lovers’ ankles.
He lifts her white cotton skirt, revealing
another hour. His hand. His hands. The syllables
inside them. O father, O foreshadow, press
into her — as the field shreds itself
with cricket cries. Show me how ruin makes a home
out of  hip bones. O mother,
O minutehand, teach me
how to hold a man the way thirst
holds water. Let every river envy
our mouths. Let every kiss hit the body
like a season. Where apples thunder
the earth with red hooves. & I am your son.
I LOVE this poem. The couplet form is specifically speaking to me. The couplets in particular are working with the use of enjambment, and line breaks. The subversion of expectation and language is astounding to me. In addition, just to scratch the surface of reasons to be inspired from this poem, the images are also doing an incredible amount of work. The “black. His faux Rolex” and a “miniature moon behind her hair.” These lines and imagery are creating so much for the reader. In addition, content-wise, the interplay of family, characters, people and inanimate objects are creating a very divine and surreal feeling/tone in this piece. Specifically, the line “O father” and “the snake is headless” and “unraveled from the lovers’ ankles” — I feel like I am waiting to see imagery of fruit, or a garden as well. Oh WAIT — there IS! The last couplet, which brings me satisfaction as a reader — “apples thunder/ the earth with red hooves & I am your son.” This line is, for lack of a better term, BOMB. There are so many natural, and organic vibes from this poem that it is cohesive, paints a setting for the reader. There is so much I love about this poem — from the tone, to the sonic components of it, to the refreshing quality, and the images — I hope you love it, too. I will keep you updated on my journey through this book, and if I ever give it back.
Julia xoxo

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