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Average rating2
Laura Kasischke's poems have the same haunting qualities and truth as our most potent memories and dreams. Through ghostly voices, fragmented narratives, overheard conversations, songs, and prayers in language reminiscent of medieval lyrics converted into contemporary idiom, the poems in *Space, In Chains* create a visceral strangeness true to its own music.
> So we found ourselves in an ancient
> place, the very air around us bound by
> chains. There was stagnant water in
> which lightning was reflected, like
> desperation in a dying eye. Like
> science. Like a dull rock plummeting
> through space, tossing off flowers and
> veils, like a bride. And
>
> also the subway. Speed under ground.
> And the way each body in the room
> appeared to be a jar of wasps and
> flies that day—but, enchanted, like
> frightened children's laughter.
Reviews with the most likes.
I'm reading a poetry book and it feels like a horror depressing novel.
Every single page is about the death of infants, animals and humans, or pure violence:
“I have stood here before.
Just this morning
I reached into the dark if the dishwasher
and stabbed my hand with a kitchen knife.”
- extract from “View from the glass”
“Look! I bear into this room a platter piled high with the rage my mother felt toward my father! Yes, it's diamonds now.
- extract from “Look”
“Riddle” is the only poem that I enjoyed.