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Summary: Forget Harry Potter¿experience Reichard's wizardry instead
Review: The range of these poems is astounding, and they gain power with rereading. The poems mourning the loss of the author's family members to illness as well as the loss of friends to AIDS are a moving and artistic revival of the elegiac form. And yet there is humor, as well, attention to nature. Few poetry books stretch all the way from exploration of language a la Language School formats, (with a deliberate nod to Frank O'Hara, New York School poet prototype) to the unjustly maligned "emotion recollected in tranquility," but this books does, and does it right. An exemplar for contemporary writers and students of poetics.
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Summary: Sweet, wonderful, smart, warm, exciting poems.
Review: What a charming, wise, heartwarming, insightful book of poems. This writer's attention to craft, his gifted voice, will inspire all readers. An important and powerful, warm and beautiful book.
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Summary: Sweet, wonderful, smart, warm, exciting poems.
Review: William Reichard is a master of intense, passionate, articulate, lyrical language cased in lyrical verse and imagery. An Alchemy In The Bones is a superb anthology introducing a major talent to an appreciative audience. Without Translation: With sewn lips he speaks/in a dazzling code that I cannot translate./But the body has other mouths from which to speak,/and these, I do comprehend:/How the blade of the should has a tongue,/and speaks./How the abdomen, sweetly heaving, has a tongue,/and speaks./I wish I had a key, the proper code to unlock/the door to his desire,/a dictionary to decipher the distance/which my mind cannot span,/but my dry heart, my lips, my clumsy instinct,/can.
Rating:
Summary: Intense, passionate, articulate, lyrical verse and imagery.
Review: William Reichard is a master of intense, passionate, articulate, lyrical language cased in lyrical verse and imagery. An Alchemy In The Bones is a superb anthology introducing a major talent to an appreciative audience. Without Translation: With sewn lips he speaks/in a dazzling code that I cannot translate./But the body has other mouths from which to speak,/and these, I do comprehend:/How the blade of the should has a tongue,/and speaks./How the abdomen, sweetly heaving, has a tongue,/and speaks./I wish I had a key, the proper code to unlock/the door to his desire,/a dictionary to decipher the distance/which my mind cannot span,/but my dry heart, my lips, my clumsy instinct,/can.
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