Corinna, A-Maying the Apocalypse simultaneously celebrates and laments that “we are but decaying.” Betraying a love of old poems and symbols and new words and forms, these are poems where “the moon’s spritzing its perfumes and the phlegm is thick and fast” over cities and Starbucks and suburbs. The poet is in love with the rhythm of the man-made world, and “the rhythm is so strong sometimes / it blows up the room.”
". . . Dennigan's verse in smart but not unkind, sensual without being icky." - —Indiana Review
"Dennigan makes delightful poetry, a pure aural pleasure more willowly, and as various as language lived." - —Boston Review
"
Spitting associative sparks off both real and imagined landscapes, the poems in Corinna invite readers to excavate, associate, and riff off what's given."
OR "Corinna A-Maying the Apocalypse is powered by conundrum, surprise, imagination, recklessness, wonderment, earnestness, and above all giant playfulness and smarts.
" - —Cold Front Mag
Формат: Скан PDf
". . . Dennigan's verse in smart but not unkind, sensual without being icky." - —Indiana Review
"Dennigan makes delightful poetry, a pure aural pleasure more willowly, and as various as language lived." - —Boston Review
"
Spitting associative sparks off both real and imagined landscapes, the poems in Corinna invite readers to excavate, associate, and riff off what's given."
OR "Corinna A-Maying the Apocalypse is powered by conundrum, surprise, imagination, recklessness, wonderment, earnestness, and above all giant playfulness and smarts.
" - —Cold Front Mag
Формат: Скан PDf
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