In the Absence of Clocks (Crab Orchard Series in Poetry - Open Competition Award) - Softcover

Shores-arguello, Jacob

 
9780809331031: In the Absence of Clocks (Crab Orchard Series in Poetry - Open Competition Award)

Inhaltsangabe

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In the fascinating collection of poems, In the Absence of Clocks, poet Jacob Shores-Arguello takes readers on an illuminating voyage through Ukrainian life. Set during the turmoil of the 2004 Orange Revolution, when the country trembled in the wake of political corruption and public outrage, Shores-Arguello’s lyrics of a revolution provide a glimpse into a world at once foreign and familiar.

Throughout the collection are the iconic images and myriad juxtapositions of Ukrainian life. wolves howling in the snow and bakers pounding early-morning loaves of bread; farmlands and cities alike rocked by political transformation; gypsies and protesters; opulent images of Byzantium and the concrete ghosts of Chernobyl—all meet here at the crossroads of East and West, democracy and communism, reality and mythology. As the narrator travels across the Ukraine, he does much more than cross the distances between Horlivka and Odessa or Kiev and the Black Sea. As the tides of change swirl around him, they mirror his own search for a cultural identity and history.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

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Jacob Shores-Arguello grew up in the United States and in Costa Rica. He is the recipient of the Fine Arts Work Center Fellowship in Provincetown, the Dzanc Books ILP International Literature Award, and a Fulbright Fellowship to Ukraine.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

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In the Absence of Clocks

Vilor, the baker’s son, sits on his stoop,

pours swept flour from one hand to the other.

A night of lightning has arrested the towers

of clockwork. Vilor waits to hear if they will

toll again. The dog-woman sleeps on the post

office steps with her harem, their long fur twists

into her gypsy scarves. Vilor smokes. Knows

each day is made of four distinct chambers.

The dogs know nothing of time, they whimper

and wait for passersby to come with coins.

Vilor, the baker’s son, dusts his hands.

Today, the village will be late for its bread.

He stands. Night-music. It is very early––

the morning, a hollow space in his body.

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