Críticas:
. . . Reading these poems, one feels a little afraid to breathe, that to shift a comma or change a line break would be to blow down the cathedral that s been built out of grains of sand. This is craft, but it's also infused with mystical moments, sacred intuitions. Delicate and difficult, these are some of the most memorable poems I ve ever read. Period. Laura Kasischke"
[Cohen s] wily ways with the mother tongue are equal to every curve the world throws, showing over and over how the soul of wordcraft can run rings around the central O / of loss and going on. David Barber"
"[Cohen's] wily ways with the mother tongue are equal to every curve the world throws, showing over and over how the soul of wordcraft can run rings around 'the central O / of loss and going on.'"--David Barber (1/1/2014 12:00:00 AM)
." . . Reading these poems, one feels a little afraid to breathe, that to shift a comma or change a line break would be to blow down the cathedral that's been built out of grains of sand. This is craft, but it's also infused with mystical moments, sacred intuitions. Delicate and difficult, these are some of the most memorable poems I've ever read. Period."--Laura Kasischke (1/1/2014 12:00:00 AM)
Reseña del editor:
The poems in Furs Not Mine display Andrea Cohen’s masterful craft and lyricism and her keen wit. In Cohen’s elegiac shoals, we see how “Great griefs are antidotes / for lesser sorrows,” and in her strange, surprising narratives, we glimpse a man darting into traffic for a hubcap, “meaning to build his dream / vehicle from scrap.” These poems, too, have the feel of dreamy constructions, in which bliss “from a distance, can look like pain.” That’s the magic of this collection: it holds loss and promise in the same image—sometimes even the same word.
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