"So I've been digesting Fly Free for the last few days, though more each poem as a fragment. Each poem seems to protest when I seek to enlist it in a global interpretation of the work, but I can say what dimensions and themes hit me in these little jousts. You bear witness to as well as evoke a glimmer of transcendence - the possibility of redemption from fear, alienation, hubris, decay, and catastrophe. 'Glimmer' is essential, since you don't lurch into sentimentality or fantasy, even when you directly implore or call forth. That alienation and corruption - the operation of nihil - are foregrounded is what gives your hints force, i.e. makes them evocative. My favorite line in the book right now is from one of my favorite poems: we wake with hammers in our hands. Can't say precisely why, only that the line repeatedly hammered me. 'Hand-Binding' will stick w/me..." - J. M.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Review
I don't have any 'official' (i.e., solicited) reviews, but I do have an insightful email from an acquaintance who spent some time with the book. Here is an excerpt:
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Blog Under Construction
Hi, this is shaping up to be an informal little site w/info on my second chapbook, Fly Free. Please be patient as I work on it. For more info currently, you can go to www.christymerry.com. Below are 3 of the 11 poems in the book for preview. More info to come, as well as a paypal button for purchasing, and perhaps a review. I am going to fix the image of 'The Practice of Handbinding' if I can; please forgive its current blurry-ness. Thanks for visiting! ~ Christy
PR
the day has one hour to go
and
there is no poetry in this space
curved, and bright
with shadows
and de-feminized voices
which mean business
40-year-old teenage bodies
piled in velvets and furs;
highlighted hair, husky voices
that need another smoke –
where else will a telephone call
(which will be billed)
include a lengthy conversation
on Asian versus female Elvis impersonators
and how long until the phone
rings again, her ex, ready to argue more
about the son they never should have had
and when else
but in this winter
does the sun sink stone-like
into the belly
which holds no bread?
and
there is no poetry in this space
curved, and bright
with shadows
and de-feminized voices
which mean business
40-year-old teenage bodies
piled in velvets and furs;
highlighted hair, husky voices
that need another smoke –
where else will a telephone call
(which will be billed)
include a lengthy conversation
on Asian versus female Elvis impersonators
and how long until the phone
rings again, her ex, ready to argue more
about the son they never should have had
and when else
but in this winter
does the sun sink stone-like
into the belly
which holds no bread?
The Practice of Hand-Binding
* Quote from: Fritz Stern, Gold and Iron: Bismarck, Bleichroder, and the Building of the German Empire(Penguin, 1977), p. 5
Fly Free
Fly free, darling
Fly free to where the
Cockroaches
Cannot get at your dreams
Fly free to where the
Guns
Don't wake you in your sleep
Where the
Drugs
Don't make you shake and weep
Where your
Fears
Aren't the only friends you keep
Fly free, darling
Fly free to where the
Cockroaches
Cannot get at your dreams
Fly free to where the
Cockroaches
Cannot get at your dreams
Fly free to where the
Guns
Don't wake you in your sleep
Where the
Drugs
Don't make you shake and weep
Where your
Fears
Aren't the only friends you keep
Fly free, darling
Fly free to where the
Cockroaches
Cannot get at your dreams
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