House Envy of All the World PDF/EPUB ✓ of All

House Envy of All the World [PDF / Epub] ☆ House Envy of All the World Author Simone White – Thomashillier.co.uk Poetry African American Studies Is all black desire corrupt If American aspiration is linked to the desire to have whiteness be male and make money what now can a decent person want Family death power Poetry African American of All Kindle Ò Studies Is all black desire corrupt If American aspiration is linked to the desire to have whiteness be male and make money what now can a decent person want Family death power Poetry and blackness each is implicated in a general failure of perfection and subjected to furious lyric rethinking in Simone White's work; a poetry of ideas where the whole limbic system becomes an event decorous and House Envy eBook ☆ profane precise and bewildered.


1 thoughts on “House Envy of All the World

  1. Jimmy Jimmy says:

    Simone White reminds me why poetry exists Not to say the sayable The kind of ambiguity here is so fearless It's like I don't know what you're saying but I get it I really do There is difficult poetry whose difficulty erects a wall against the reader shutting him out and then there is poetry like this which is difficult but also welcoming the reader into the mystery I feel like that is a very personal judgement but for me this poetry's difficulty and obscurity is very welcoming and makes me open my eyes wider with wonder I don't completely feel every poem here but enough of them blow my mind that this is definitely a 5 star book for me There are phrases here which seem so right like the ones that you wake up with in the morning repeating though for no other reason than the sound and the feeling in your bones when you say themThis is the small hillThis is the small hillLandscape of the middle countryI love and I am on it stumbling down in high heelsThis is the last eveningNo light in the suandered woodThe gentleman farmer still awakeHis back to my backVerdant in blackness is a twinklingIs a wet streamlike thingSmellling like homeThis is the last eveningI do not speak JapaneseI am twenty nine and not thirtyI cannot say exactly what I wantThe Senate hall across the sparse winter parkSpecie of evening passed through her bulbsNow noonnow dead of nightThe witching hour every other hourTo catch the eye of the sergeant patrollingThe oxidized animal fountainI call outDo not cause me painHere is the darkness come againOr the lightA hawk's spinThe creekbed upending its lootThe hot hot breath of the freezing woodOn the last eveningIn the middle country that I love


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