Time Down to Mind

Graham Foust

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Time Down to Mind

Time Down to Mind Poetry No one gets dark or gets darkness like Graham Foust He s the one who ll say A touch horrific is the green with which the ground will tear the winter while everyone else is writing their paean t

  • Title: Time Down to Mind
  • Author: Graham Foust
  • ISBN: 9780990340751
  • Page: 410
  • Format: Paperback
  • Poetry No one gets dark or gets darkness like Graham Foust He s the one who ll say A touch horrific is the green with which the ground will tear the winter while everyone else is writing their paean to spring His and ours is a world of violence and ennui set to catchy numbers I heard a fly buzz I don t know when I died In TIME DOWN TO MIND, Foust, now iPoetry No one gets dark or gets darkness like Graham Foust He s the one who ll say A touch horrific is the green with which the ground will tear the winter while everyone else is writing their paean to spring His and ours is a world of violence and ennui set to catchy numbers I heard a fly buzz I don t know when I died In TIME DOWN TO MIND, Foust, now in early middle age, feels time s pressure as never before He faces backwards tweaking lines from old songs and poems while being pulled or blown into the future The heart of being is that I m being forced out This is something we all know, of course, but who else will put it so baldly, so memorably This work feels necessary Rae Armantrout I like when it feels like poems are written for me Graham Foust s poems have that effect the way they sound, the connections they make to each other, to life, our lives Just open this book and I m sure you ll agree Stephen Malkmus

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      410 Graham Foust
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      Posted by:Graham Foust
      Published :2019-01-14T12:35:21+00:00

    One thought on “Time Down to Mind

    1. Jeff on said:

      Time Down To Mind offers up its share of bourgeoise bathos and self-deprecating humor, but it's also got Foust's best writing yet, a clearer measure of sublime self-absorption than many another commuter down the pastoral lane of American verse. Don't expect self-abnegating hymns to BLM. It's apophansis all the slippery slope down. "Freedom from want?" Foust asks in the magisterial "Poem For A While," "Want is all I've almost owned. | I want least want's failure to be words with me. | Mornings I [...]

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