Imagen del autor

Kevin Prufer

Autor de The New Young American Poets: An Anthology

14+ Obras 138 Miembros 1 Reseña 1 Preferidas

Sobre El Autor

Incluye el nombre: ed. Kevin Prufer

Créditos de la imagen: Library of Congress

Series

Obras de Kevin Prufer

Explorador de obras

Obras relacionadas

The Best American Poetry 2003 (2003) — Contribuidor — 174 copias
The Best American Poetry 2009 (2009) — Contribuidor — 134 copias
Legitimate Dangers: American Poets of the New Century (2006) — Contribuidor — 88 copias
The Best American Poetry 2020 (2020) — Contribuidor — 42 copias
Kansas City Noir (2012) — Contribuidor — 38 copias
The Golden Shovel Anthology: New Poems Honoring Gwendolyn Brooks (2017) — Contribuidor — 17 copias
Crimewave 9: Transgressions (2007) 5 copias

Etiquetado

Conocimiento común

Género
male

Miembros

Reseñas

Churches por Kevin Prufer
Prufer lays open a death-haunted America in this dark collection, entwining political and personal story lines in sprawling verses that frequently call upon fantastical images: missiles fired from the moon, post-apocalyptic settlements, self-aware bombs. He seems focused on displaying a society that is ill, that indeed seeks out violence and cannot do without it, as in this appeal to "terrorists" in Show Us:
We are a nation of gray old men walking rain-slick streets beneath black umbrellas. / Fill our tall buildings with your vines and blooms, sprinkle us with glitter and with glass, / with thrills and shards of foil and steel!
In a poem called Poetry, he personifies the poem, asking if it has any relevance today as it surveys all the wreckage:
I saw the whole thing. Here I am. Up here. / ... then down I'll fall past my neighbors' windows, down I'll tumble to where that car is burning, / to where that man sleeps inside it and the column of smoke is invisible in the night / and you won't notice my descent, no, you won't cry out, you won't turn and gather around me, you won't ask me any questions at all.
A recognition of the irrelevance of poets today, who are often said to only be talking to each other, in a tiny circle? If all a poet today can really do is rage while being ignored, at least he can do so with style.
while the baby boy slept in his box /
beneath the floorboards they walked across, /
and all night long /
his little dreams rose up on strings /
and filled the house /
that the morning light washed clean.
… (más)
 
Denunciada
lelandleslie | Feb 24, 2024 |
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Obras
14
También por
7
Miembros
138
Popularidad
#148,171
Valoración
½ 3.5
Reseñas
1
ISBNs
13
Favorito
1

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