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DOWNLOAD ´ Stay, Illusion: Poems µ ❮PDF❯ ✭ Stay, Illusion: Poems ✩ Author Lucie Brock Broido – Citybreakscheap.co.uk You Have Harnessed Yourself Ridiculously To This World Tell the truth I told me When I couldnt speak Sorrows a barbaric art crude as a Viking ship Or a child Who rode a spotted pony to the lake away R And when I woke I could not wake You little sphinx I could not keep you here with me Anywhere I could not bear to let you go Stay here In our clouded bed of wind and timothy with me Lie here with me in snowNational Book Award Finalist Stay Illusion the much anticipated volume of poems by Lucie Brock Broido illuminates the broken but beautiful world she inhabits Her poems are lit with magic and stark with truth whether they speak from the imagined dwelling of her Abandonarium or from habitats where animals are farmed and harmed humanely or even from the surreal confines of death row they find a voice like no otherdazzling intimate startling heartbreaking Eddying between the theater of the lavish and the enigmatic between the gaudy and the unadorned Brock Broidos verse scours America for material to render unflinchingly the here and now Grandeur devolves into a comic irony We have come to terms with our Self Like a marmoset getting out of her Great Ape suit She dares the unexplained The wings were left ajar At the altar where Ive knelt all night trembling leaning rough As sugar raw and sweet Each poem is a rebellious chain of words Be good they said and so too I was Good until I was not Strange narratives interior and exterior make a world that is foreign and yet our own like Dickinson Brock Broido constructs a spider sibling commanding the silk spool of the recluse as she confects her eventual mythomania And why create the web Because If it is written down you cant rescind it.

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In a satin shoeThe weaklings saddle is worn down from just too much sad attitude No one wants to face the opaue reality of herself For the life of me I was made American You must consider this Whatever suffering is insufferable is punishable by perishableIn Vienne the rabbit Maurice is at home in the family cage I ache for him his boredom and his solitude On suffering and animals inarguably they do I miss your heart my heart For A Snow Leopard in OctoberStay little ounce here in Fleece and leaf with me in the ever Where swans trembled in the lake around our bed of hay and morning Came each morning like a felt cloak billowing Across the most pale day It was the color of a steeple disappearing In an old Venetian sky Or of a saint tamping the grenadine Of his heavy robes before the Blessing of the Animals Ive heard tell of men who brought Great Pyrenees a borzoi or Some pocket mice baskets of mourning doves beneath their wicker lids A chameleon on a leash from the Prussian circuses And from the farthest Caucasus some tundra wolves in pairs In a meadow I had fallen As deep in sleep as a trilobite in the red clay of the centuries Even now just down our winding road I can hear the children blanketing Themselves to sleep in leaves from maple trees No bad dreams will come to them I know Because once in the gone ago I was a lynx as well safe as a tiger iris In its silt on the banks of the Euphrates as you were Would they take You now from me like Leonardos sleeve disappearing in The ai.

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Stay Illusion PoemsPDF Stay, Illusion: Poems Author Lucie Brock Broido Citybreakscheap.co.uk You Have Harnessed Yourself Ridiculously To This World Tell the truth I told me When I couldnt speak Sorrows a barbaric art crude as a Viking ship Or a child Who rode a spotted pony to the lake away f You Have Harnessed Yourself Ridiculously To This World Tell the truth I told me When I couldnt speak Sorrows a barbaric art crude as a Viking ship Or a child Who rode a spotted pony to the lake away from summer In the s Toward the iron lung of polio According to the census I am unmarried And Stay, Illusion: Epub / unchurched The woman in the field dressed only in the sun Too far gone to halt the Arctic Caps catastrophe big beautiful Blubbery white bears each clinging to his one last hunk of ice I am obliged now to refrain from dying for as long as it is possible For whom left am I first We have come to terms with our SelfLike a marmoset getting out of her Great Ape suit Dove Interrupted Dont do that when youre dead like this I said Arguably still suabbling about the word inarguably I haunt Versailles poring through the markets of the medieval Mostly meat to be sold there Mutton hangs Like laundry pinkened on its lineAnd gold a chalice with a cure for living in it We step over the skirt of an Elizabeth Red grapes a delicacy each peeled for useach sheath The vestment of a miniature priest disrobedA sister is an Old World sparrow placed.