A Hunger

Rating:
Summary: Wanting Ghosts, I would Grieve
Review: I first met Lucie Brock-Broido when Alexandra Johnson called her for me to have me study with her one summer in Cambridge Masachusetts. I was scared silly. Such a figure is she. And reading A Hunger, I feared her more as her voice in these poems looms high, as from a darkness of grander place than I could ever dare go. In studying with her, I came to know that it was not time for me to write as one Harvard student did, about love. There is a country we each live in, and at the time, mine was not about the living, it was about the dead. She ventured into the darkness with me and I share with you a poem I wrote that summer with her. LB-2 as I came to know her as, will venture to all places to write with a student, to write her poems. Her poems show us just a glimpse of where she has been. Love them, as she is one of our greatest poets.



Rating:
Summary: Wanting Ghosts, I would Grieve
Review: I first met Lucie Brock-Broido when Alexandra Johnson called her for me to have me study with her one summer in Cambridge Masachusetts. I was scared silly. Such a figure is she. And reading A Hunger, I feared her more as her voice in these poems looms high, as from a darkness of grander place than I could ever dare go. In studying with her, I came to know that it was not time for me to write as one Harvard student did, about love. There is a country we each live in, and at the time, mine was not about the living, it was about the dead. She ventured into the darkness with me and I share with you a poem I wrote that summer with her. LB-2 as I came to know her as, will venture to all places to write with a student, to write her poems. Her poems show us just a glimpse of where she has been. Love them, as she is one of our greatest poets.

Wanting Ghosts, I Would Grieve

She sends me to the shed
To shovel a rabbit
Torn by a dog in a day
The maggots met me there

Come see my puppies
Necks lanced of sour milk
Why I fed them one by one and left
The last to the woods unburied

Stop with me by my horse
Dead in the field where I
Never wanted to leave or to return
Home where she unscrewed

The bathroom dook locks
Where my brother hid before
She found his soiled underwear
Behind the lilac dropped

Rating:
Summary: more
Review: Lucie Brock-Broido, as is the lot for wonderous poets, will not be given her due attention when she deserves it. I know this because she hasn't recieved enough yet and she's long past due.

Rating:
Summary: Alas
Review: When a book of poems this magnificent goes out of print, the world is in dire trouble. Let us hope that the loss is only temporary, and that meanwhile you can borrow a copy from your community library. If not, satisfy your cravings with The Master Letters, another superb (and necessary) addition to the art from this Master Craftswoman--without a doubt, one of the finest poets working today. Alyssa A. Lappen