Thursday, December 17, 2009

Tonight the moths are beating the shit out of themselves against the screen door

Michael Dickman's sparse poems hit me hard. Every little phrase or line, set together in moving portraits of life, sends shivers down my spine or feels like a heavy and warm blanket. I love Michael Dickman's poems because they feel real, every one.

I read this collection in one sitting, and I will probably do it again over break. Winter break reading was made for poems like these, recuperating from a semester of hard-hitting living inside away from the cold weather. I will curl up with this book when my wife is at work, not able to cuddle up with me.

Favorite Poems:
Nervous System
Returning To Church
Into the Earth
We Did Not Make Ourselves
The End of the West

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