Wesley McNair
Autor de The Maine Poets: A Verse Anthology
Sobre El Autor
Créditos de la imagen: Wesley McNair
Obras de Wesley McNair
My Life In Cars. 1 copia
The dissonant heart 1 copia
Obras relacionadas
Etiquetado
Conocimiento común
- Género
- male
- Nacionalidad
- USA
- Lugar de nacimiento
- New Hampshire, USA
- Lugares de residencia
- New Hampshire, USA
Mercer, Maine, USA - Educación
- Keene State College
Middlebury College - Ocupaciones
- poet
writer
editor - Organizaciones
- University of Maine at Farmington
Miembros
Reseñas
Listas
Premios
También Puede Gustarte
Autores relacionados
Estadísticas
- Obras
- 26
- También por
- 5
- Miembros
- 222
- Popularidad
- #100,929
- Valoración
- 3.9
- Reseñas
- 8
- ISBNs
- 34
Late Wonders: New and Selected Poems begins with a very nice "retrospection" written by McNair, and the volume ends with a section of his new poems. Between the two are selections from his collections, including "McNair’s masterful trilogy of three long narrative poems written over the course of thirty years." (these have been published in separate volumes.
I like McNair’s poetry for many reasons. It’s down-to-earth, intimate, ordinary, sometimes funny or sentimental, always empathetic. He’s captured so much of northern New England, and yet we easily find in his lines the universal.
OLD CADILLACS
Who would have guessed they would end this way,
rubbing shoulders with old Scouts and pickups
at the laundromat, smoothing out frost heaves
all the way home? Once cherished for their style,
they are now valued for use, their back seats
full of kids, dogs steaming their windows; yet this
is the life they have wanted all along, to let go
of their flawless paint jobs and carry cargoes
of laundry and cheap groceries down no-name roads,
wearing bumper stickers that promise Christ
until they can travel no more and take their places
in backyards. far from the heated garages
of the rich who rejected them, among old trees
and appliances and chicken wire, where the poor
keep each one, dreaming, perhaps, of a Cadillac
with parts so perfect it might lift past sixty
as if not touching the earth at all, as if to pass
through the eye of a needle and roll into heaven.
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You can read more of McNair's work here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/wesley-mcnair… (más)