flowers breathe their ardor
clouds nudge me closer
my body--full like fruit--
is sticky as joy
it finds the wild impatience
of my unfurled heart
it knows what has happened:
I felt myself precious
and know I can meet myself
at every return
_________________________
After a week of being unable to hold a storyline in my head, I found two excellent reads. The 57 Bus was a genre I didn't even know existed--YA nonfiction. It starts with a sleeping agender teenager being set on fire, and if you told me at that point that I'd be crying for anyone else in that book, I'd not have believed you. Yesterday I started The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida (2022 Booker) as a sort of prep/procrastination before I read Brotherless Night (2024 Women's Prize), which has the same political timeframe and framework. I know Brotherless Night will be heartbreaking for what it documents and also because I witnessed how long and difficult the writing process was for VVG (SG). Anyway, The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida begins with the protagonist's experience of a post-death afterworld and gave me nightmares after having been at the hospital last week. But the writing was so layered and so, so, so good I couldn't stop. Just brilliant.
6 comments:
Oh boy, I think I'll pass on both those books right now, that sounds just too intense for me at the moment.
Nice.
Nice pairing of poem and picture. I can't wait for my zinnias to bloom. One is getting close.
Perfect summer post!
The 57 Bus was so good! All of Dashka Slater's books that I've read have been excellent and that's saying something since I am not usually a good YA audience.
Nicole--Solid decision!
Gillian--Thanks :)
Steph--I love your garden pics and look forward to your zinnias.
Sarah--Thanks :)
Engie--Right? I haven't read any of her other work, but will look for them now...
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