Explores the strange and intricate mechanics of human systems-of the body, of thought, of language itself. These are the engines, like poetry, that propel both our comprehension and misunderstanding. "If you're lucky, " Harvey writes, "after a number of / revolutions, you'll / feel something catch."
The verse and prose poems of this third collection by Harvey shows her signature wit (the factory puffs its own set of clouds), darkened by an ominous sense of fearfulness in a post-9/11 world, which the poems' seeming levity tries to combat. The backbone of the collection is a pair of sequences titled The Future of Terror and Terror of the Future, that explore those two increasingly loaded words using a clever alphabetical system with haunting results: We were just a gumdrop on the grid. Prose poems bookending the sequences present a fable about a lonely robot (When Robo-Boy feels babyish, he has the option of really reverting); a study of appetite (Ma gave Dinna' Pig his name so that no-one would forget where that pig was headed); an explanation of how the impossibility of mind-reading led to love (Even when they press their ears or mouths or noses together, the skull wall is still in the way); and an unlikely dinner ritual (rip the silhouette from the sky and drag it inside). A few short, lineated poems punctuate the blocks of prose: World, I'm no one/ to complain about you.
Comic, elegaic, and always formally intricate, using political allegory and painterly landscape, philosophic story and dramatic monologue, these poems describe a moment when something marvelous and unforeseen alters the course of a single day, a year, or an entire life.
An inflexible little general discovers a giant snowflake hovering over him one day, and it forces him to recognize the need for imagination in his life.
In a starred review Publishers Weekly raves: "It’s an avant-garde, surrealist story with a Hollywood-style tearjerker lurking within—and a surprisingly charming and affecting one at that." Award-winning poet Matthea Harvey and illustrator extraordinaire Giselle Potter team up to create an indescribably unique picture book about wanting to be normal, then coming to appreciate being different. Ruby would love to be like everyone else—not easy when you have a tiara-wearing mother and a father who spends his time trimming outrageous topiary. She'd also like to get a nice normal pet, maybe a dog. Then, on a family vacation to Norway, she finds herself adopted by a small, affectionate glacier. How Cecil, as the ice pet is named, proves himself to Ruby—risking his own meltdown—is a story sure to thrill and delight young readers.
Young readers find their poetic peers as poets in their 20s and 30s present a poetry anthology dedicated to what it means to be a teenager and young adult in today's world. 240pp.
We’ve all been there. We’ve all felt that pang. It’s hard to stop the “green-eyed monster” once it rears its ugly head. We asked 13 writers to share their visions of jealousy and this collection of short stories, essays, and one poem was their response.
MACHINE OF DEATH tells thirty-four different stories about people who know how they will die. Prepare to have your tears jerked, your spine tingled, your funny bone tickled, your mind blown, your pulse quickened, or your heart warmed. Or better yet, simply prepare to be surprised. Because even when people do have perfect knowledge of the future, there's no telling exactly how things will turn out.