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More copies of this ISBNThis title in other editionsThat Little Something: Poemsby Charles Simic
Synopses & ReviewsPublisher Comments:In his eighteenth collection, Charles Simic, the superb poet of the vaguely ominous sound, the disturbing, potentially significant image, moves closer to the dark heart of history and human behavior. "Evil things are being done in our name," he writes in "Those Who Clean After," and, even more directly, in "Memories of the Future" he writes: There are one or two murderers in any crowd. They do not suspect their destinies yet. Wars are started to make it easy for them To kill that woman pushing a baby carriage. Simic understands the strange interplay between ordinary life and extremes, between reality and imagination, and he writes with absolute purity about those contradictory but simultaneous states of being or feeling: "Everything about you / My life, is both / Make-believe and real." A profoundly important poet for our time, and a stunning book. SECRET HISTORY Of the light in my room: Its mood swings, Dark-morning glooms, Summer ecstasies.
Spider on the wall, Lamp burning late, Shoes left by the bed, I'm your humble scribe.
Dust balls, simple souls Conferring in the corner. The pearl earring she lost, Still to be found.
Silence of falling snow, Night vanishing without trace, Only to return. I'm your humble scribe. Synopsis:In his eighteenth collection, Charles Simic, the superb poet of the vaguely ominous sound and the disturbing, potentially significant image, moves closer to the dark heart of history and human behavior. Simic understands the strange interplay between ordinary life and extremes, between reality and imagination, and he writes with absolute purity about those contradictory but simultaneous states of being or feeling: "Everything about you / My life, is both / Make-believe and real." A profoundly important poet for our time, and a stunning book. SECRET HISTORY Of the light in my room: Its mood swings, Dark-morning glooms, Summer ecstasies.
Spider on the wall, Lamp burning late, Shoes left by the bed, I'm your humble scribe.
Dust balls, simple souls Conferring in the corner. The pearl earring she lost, Still to be found.
Silence of falling snow, Night vanishing without trace, Only to return. I'm your humble scribe. About the AuthorCharles Simic is widely recognized as one of the most important American poets of our time. He received the Pulitzer Prize in 1990 for The World Doesn't End. He lives in New Hampshire. Table of ContentsCONTENTS
I Walking 3 That Little Something 4 The Elevator Is Out of Order 5 Night Clerk in a Roach Motel 6 Souvenirs of Hell 7 Dramatic Evenings 8 Department of Complaints 9 To Boredom 10 Deaths Book of Jokes 11 Fiordiligi 12 Devil and Eve 13 The Late Game 14 Waiting for the Sun to Set 15 Murky Memories 16 House of Cards 17 Impersonator of Blank Walls 18 Aunt Dinah Sailed to China 19 Doubles 20 To Laziness 21 The Great Disappearing Act 22 Summer Dawn 23
II Gourmets of Tragedies 27 Listen 28 Encyclopedia of Horror 29 Sunday 30 Dance of the Macabre Mice 31 Flying Horses 32 In the Heat of the Night 33 Night Watchman 34 The Lights Are on Everywhere 35 Memories of the Future 36 Come Winter 37 Those Who Clean After 38 In the Junk Store 39 Madmen Are Running the World 40
III Late-Night Chat 43 Clouds 44 In the Afternoon 45 One Wing of the Museum 46 Prophesy 47 Dead Reckoning 48 Metaphysics Anonymous 49 High Windows 50 Ghost Ship 51 Wonders of the Invisible World 52 Secret History 53 Wire Hangers 54 To the Reader 55 The Ice Cubes Are on Fire 56 Labor and Capital 57 The Blur 58 The Bather 59 Crickets 60
IV Eternities 63 Eternitys Orphans 73 What Our Readers Are SayingBe the first to add a comment for a chance to win!Product Details
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