A Momentary Glory: Last Poems (Wesleyan Poetry Series) by Harvey Shapiro

By Harvey Shapiro

The prestigious poet Harvey Shapiro kicked the bucket on January 7, 2013. The poems during this e-book, a lot of them formerly unpublished and found simply after his loss of life, are a superb present, and the ultimate affirmation of his awesome expertise. Edited by means of Shapiro's literary executor, the poet and critic Norman Finkelstein, those final poems undergo an extraordinary gravitas, and but they're as supple, jazzy, and edgy as Shapiro's prior paintings. all of the topics for which he's identified are fantastically represented right here. There are poems of his stories in global struggle II, the erotic lifestyles, and of day-by-day moments in Brooklyn and new york, all looking for a cosmopolitan knowledge and beauty that the poet calls "a temporary glory." As Shapiro tells us, the poem "Is an Egyptian / send of the lifeless, / every thing required / for all times kept / in its hold." The publication comprises an creation via the editor. a web reader's better half should be to be had.

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45 Deer The deer sifting through the small cropped grass looking for a line by Thomas Wyatt to house him in shivers sensing he is only a few steps from roadkill. 46 – Suburban Note The deer don’t startle anymore. They turn from me in boredom, edging on loathing: that a grown man who has seen war and the destruction of cities should bestir himself to keep them from their food. – 47 Rockport The band concert at evening in the gazebo. Sailboats clustered along the shore. The listeners, mostly locals and their children.

19 An American Life The tunes I hear in my eighties I first heard in my teens. Like, “You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. ” When I was twenty, the words had changed to “You must remember this, the flak can’t always miss, there’s someone’s going to die. ” I sang them in Italy, in the bars, between missions. And here I am at eighty-five, the tune on the radio, driving along, caught in a time warp that sings. 20 – Discourse on Education I was trained in war. At nineteen, I could put together a 50-caliber machine gun blindfolded.

I am trying to recollect faces in the flickering shadow of my war so I can tell Telemachus, who couldn’t care less. – 19 An American Life The tunes I hear in my eighties I first heard in my teens. Like, “You must remember this, a kiss is just a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh. ” When I was twenty, the words had changed to “You must remember this, the flak can’t always miss, there’s someone’s going to die. ” I sang them in Italy, in the bars, between missions. And here I am at eighty-five, the tune on the radio, driving along, caught in a time warp that sings.

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