The Wish Book
In the end, what I love most about this book is how it drives itself and how it drives the reader to finish it.
In the end, what I love most about this book is how it drives itself and how it drives the reader to finish it.
Carr’s work is at once philosophical and technically precise in a way that is all too rare in contemporary poetry.
Whichever way you read this collection, the true nature of the writing, and the story, is deeply and profoundly imaginative.
Presented as a series of compact, carefully crafted prose pieces, this magnificent sequence poses compelling aesthetic questions to the reader
There is loss, there is struggle in these poems, but there is also the capacity for great beauty and joy.
And therein lies the beauty of Schultz’s work. If he did not love the world so deeply, he could not be so deeply angry with it for its failures, its horrors, or its disappointments.
For as much as poetry concerns itself with the various forms of eternity—Keats’s “A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” Shakespeare’s “Not marble, nor the gilded monuments of time / Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme”—the practice of poetry also initiates us into the ongoing fact of daily existence.
This collection travels the breadth of the universe and the human, leaving us searching our own experiences for such richness.
As if a blueprint of author’s imagined garden could begin without the 28 leathern paws of 7 unassigned dogs halting, holding their howls at the edge. If you draw me a map I won’t find you. This poem is for the cartographer offering an alternate arcadia, I mean, a third arcana. I mean I believe […]
I could have sworn this was a cave with thin gray branches at the opening, a perfect ellipse. No one’s home but home. No whistle over the opening. A man empties his lungs entirely, so he can sing, so we can sing. He looks down at the ground. I look at the cave and then […]