Read The Air Lost in Breathing: Poems by Simone Muench Free Online
Book Title: The Air Lost in Breathing: Poems|
The author of the book: Simone Muench
Edition: Helicon Nine Editions
The size of the: 37.71 MB
City - Country: No data
Date of issue: October 1st 2000
ISBN 13: 9781884235306
Format files: PDF
Loaded: 2142 times
Reader ratings: 3.4
Read full description of the books:
These poems quicken the heart, I swear. This is my favorite book of poems by Simone Muench so far. It is her first, and the themes here are more personal, it seems, reflecting on love and loneliness with a repetition of body images: mouths, tongues, hands, fingers as well as the body's "natural pulsations: heartbeat, eyeblink, breathing." Finishing each poem releases a breath that I didn't realize I had been holding while reading.
The kind of poems you promise to remember by heart, or that reminds you of someone, so you make a note to send a copy of the poem to that person at some time, or that reminds you of yourself so much that you want your body to respond with more drama, more noise vs. a simple turn of the page, so that you can surprise the morning commuters with volcano tension.
A few favorite parts aka these are notes-to-myself:
"So you throw open windows and doors, / air thick with calendula, heat, / the silver trill of crickets / sends you reeling into spring and / a renegotiation with desire." (from "The Problem with Celibacy")
"their red skirts / umbrellas over the yellow suns of polyester underpants"
"the dark magenta of the janitor's / lips"
"I want love / to write a love poem to me / with bad intentions."
"I want fuck and prick / and cunt. Those delicious monosyllables / of want."
"she looks like she could high kick her way to California / where at least absence owns the ocean and lovers / give back in pictures what they've taken in real life."
"Outside, it is humid, the city smells / like breath, the madness of teeth."
"During sex, he notices she's shy. / How can she tell him most evenings / she slumbers with her hands / tucked neatly between her legs / like a bookmark; when he opens her thighs / she's afraid they'll spill / histories that have inhabited her flesh for so long / they might start breathing / without her."
"If my tongue were a highlighter / you'd be lit up like a metropolis at midnight."
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Read information about the authorSimone Muench was raised in Benson, Louisiana and Combs, Arkansas. She is the author of five full-length collections including Lampblack & Ash (Sarabande, 2005), Orange Crush (Sarabande, 2010), and Wolf Centos (Sarabande, August, 2014). Her most recent chapbook Trace received the Black River Award (Black Lawrence Press, 2014). Some of her honors include an NEA fellowship, Illinois Arts Council fellowships, Marianne Moore Prize for Poetry, Kathryn A. Morton Prize for Poetry, PSA’s Bright Lights/Big Verse Contest, and residency fellowships to Yaddo, Artsmith, and VSC. She received her Ph.D from UIC, and is Professor of English at Lewis University where she serves as chief faculty advisor for Jet Fuel Review. Collaborative sonnets, written with Dean Rader, are forthcoming in The American Poetry Review, New American Writing, Zyzzyva, Blackbird, and others.
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