By Laura Kasischke
"Kasischke's intelligence is such a lot obvious in her syntactic keep watch over and speed, the way in which she gauges simply while to make loose verse accelerate, or cease brief, or gradual down."—The ny instances ebook Review
"Kasischke's poems are powered via a skillful use of images and the sophisticated, creative manner she turns a phrase."—Austin American-Statesman
Laura Kasischke's poems have a similar haunting traits and fact as our such a lot powerful thoughts and desires. via ghostly voices, fragmented narratives, overheard conversations, songs, and prayers in language comparable to medieval lyrics switched over into modern idiom, the poems in Space, In Chains create a visceral strangeness actual to its personal music.
So we chanced on ourselves in an historical position, the very
air round us sure via chains. There was
stagnant water within which lightning
was mirrored, like desperation
in a loss of life eye. Like technology. Like
a uninteresting rock plummeting via area, tossing
off plant life and veils, like a bride. And
also the subway.
Speed below ground.
And the way in which each one physique within the room looked as if it would be
a jar of wasps and flies that day—but, enchanted,
like nervous children's laughter.
Laura Kasischke is the writer of 13 books of poetry and fiction. Her novel Her existence earlier than Her Eyes used to be tailored for the display and starred Uma Thurman. A Guggenheim Fellow in 2009, she teaches within the MFA application on the collage of Michigan.
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Additional info for Space, In Chains (Lannan Literary Selections)
The Greenwich clock, the employee bees, the agitated bubbles in a flow. they've got a plan, those: Theirs is the realm of the railing nailed down round the canyon for the sightseeing blind. a girl sprawls out on a seashore with a ebook, able to learn, yet, establishing it, she sighs. Oh my. She has settled down on her towel with the existence tale of a fruit fly— plausible, chronological, yet so speedy erased that it in basic terms serves to turn out that the universe is made up of curving, warping house. That, should you take into consideration order, it turns into illness. That to need to be successful is to fail: the way in which these satellites pointed on the stars decide up no sound in any respect, other than, each few a long time, the discordant tune of some chickens in a cave. Oh, certain, oh, convinced, I see. there's a bridge from right here to there. yet we know it's the form of bridge that blows away. the type of bridge made often of magazines, affordable beer, television. no longer equipped to climate a lot in any respect. now not struggle, nor depression, nor illness. no longer even healthiness. no longer even peace. there's a chasm underneath it, and on one part my father is in his sanatorium dress observing that bridge blow round within the breeze—and, at the different part, ready, is the mysterious unknowable factor that will have made him chuffed during this lifestyles: What if it was once me? The consuming couple, similes just like the lifeless photographer’s ultimate photo of shadow and gravel, after which that first drink, and without warning we have been enjoyable like anchors eyeless within the silence of anything like a sea whereas we have been additionally clattering crazily over cobblestones, like carts tied to runaway horses in a fiery scene from a few previous motion picture, and we have been additionally the administrators burning down the set and likewise the horses and the surroundings until eventually the following drink like a princess waking up beside a chimpanzee— or that chimpanzee in a tuxedo, strapped to a rocket, introduced in a front room, like now not the powerful man’s arm, simply the sleeve, as though not just the birds however the cages were let loose, the best way we have been having fun with each other having fun with one another’s corporation like a pair separated through mirrors immediately down the guts of a seashore (if you’re having one other one honey will you pour one other one for me? ) like a crate of crutches washed up on that seashore or a kite brushing a satellite tv for pc, a celebrity, a complete sunlight approach, whereas additionally snagged by means of its tail in a tree nonetheless consuming like a few autos with out drivers dodging one another on the street or guffawing, shouting automatons or butterflies touchdown in rainy cement, considering now we’ll die like social gathering favors, as though we have been real humans or thoroughly basic humans until eventually the final drink once we had not more desire of similes. Your final day So we came across ourselves in an historic position, the very air round us certain via chains. there has been stagnant water during which lightning was once mirrored, like desperation in a loss of life eye. Like technological know-how. Like a lifeless rock plummeting via house, tossing off flora and veils, like a bride. And additionally the subway. pace below flooring.