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koreilly's review
4.0
My first book of poetry, read at my wife's recommendation. It's really good. The poet's are lyrical, touch on family loss and many other things and always end with a quick stab of words that stay with you. I really enjoyed it.
caramels's review
4.0
These poems were sometimes too elusive for me to entirely grasp, which made me question my shortcomings, as all good poetry should make you do (among other things). The words enchanted me.
“My memory of your casual smile
This memory, like
a child’s bit of sweet embroidery smuggled
out of an asylum”
“My memory of your casual smile
This memory, like
a child’s bit of sweet embroidery smuggled
out of an asylum”
sanmeow's review
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
4.5
just as good as laura kasischke's poems always are! really nice writing style, here it's kinda more dreamy than i've read from her before. i mean that as a good thing! i really appreciate this thematically, and i feel like your last day stood out the most.
kaiteako's review
2.0
2 stars; I can understand why people love her writing, but I think it just wasn’t for me! I couldn’t comprehend the excessive use of metaphors, although beautiful, I found very little meaning. Maybe I’m just dumb, but I think I would’ve loved this collection if some were toned down a little.
torit's review
3.0
Kasischke combines unexpected images and creates associations unlike any other poet I’ve read. Her poems are abstract yet readable. I look forward to rereading this book in the future!
gagne's review
mysterious
reflective
slow-paced
4.25
Content Warnings
Minor: Death of parent, Grief, and Animal death
cuocuo's review
4.0
Definitely my favorite Kasischke collection so far. I'd argue that she overuses italics, but, overall, it does everything poetry should: make you think, make you feel, make you sit up a little straighter in your chair.
joannanewsom's review
4.0
3.5 stars.
"Hello, ugly memory of myself crouched down with my fists on my thighs / yelling at that child: / Something about a stuffed animal and we're already late, and the palsied / trees of winter behind me reflected for thousands of miles in his eyes."
"But here, the flakes still fall in their slow motion, wearing their geometries / like trances. Perhaps no two are exactly alike, but they are also too alike to / be given names, too much the same to be granted lives."
"Hello, ugly memory of myself crouched down with my fists on my thighs / yelling at that child: / Something about a stuffed animal and we're already late, and the palsied / trees of winter behind me reflected for thousands of miles in his eyes."
"But here, the flakes still fall in their slow motion, wearing their geometries / like trances. Perhaps no two are exactly alike, but they are also too alike to / be given names, too much the same to be granted lives."