Wild Nights e-bog
131,10 DKK
(ekskl. moms 104,88 DKK)
America's Kim Addonizio has been called 'one of the nation's most provocative and edgy poets'. Her poetry is renowned both for its gritty, street-wise narrators and for a wicked sense of wit. With passion, precision and irreverent honesty, her poems explore life's dual nature: good and evil, light and dark, joy and suffering, exposing raw emotions often only visible when truly confronting ourselv…
America's Kim Addonizio has been called 'one of the nation's most provocative and edgy poets'. Her poetry is renowned both for its gritty, street-wise narrators and for a wicked sense of wit. With passion, precision and irreverent honesty, her poems explore life's dual nature: good and evil, light and dark, joy and suffering, exposing raw emotions often only visible when truly confronting ourselves - jealousy, self-pity, fear, lust. 'Like any good nighthawk, Addonizio finds Eros and loss inseparable, where they lurk in lovers' exchanges and at the bottom of empty gin bottles. But these poems serve as affirmations too, in long lyrical questions-and-answers that push on into the early morning, braving last call.' - The New Yorker
E-bog
131,10 DKK
Forlag
Bloodaxe Books
Udgivet
22.10.2015
Længde
300 sider
Genrer
WSXF
Sprog
English
Format
epub
Beskyttelse
LCP
ISBN
9781780372716
America's Kim Addonizio has been called 'one of the nation's most provocative and edgy poets'. Her poetry is renowned both for its gritty, street-wise narrators and for a wicked sense of wit. With passion, precision and irreverent honesty, her poems explore life's dual nature: good and evil, light and dark, joy and suffering, exposing raw emotions often only visible when truly confronting ourselves - jealousy, self-pity, fear, lust. 'Like any good nighthawk, Addonizio finds Eros and loss inseparable, where they lurk in lovers' exchanges and at the bottom of empty gin bottles. But these poems serve as affirmations too, in long lyrical questions-and-answers that push on into the early morning, braving last call.' - The New Yorker
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