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4.32 AVERAGE
4.32 AVERAGE
dark
emotional
sad
A gorgeous exploration of grief and loss, with a breadth from the infinite to the infinitesimal.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cancer, Death, Grief
emotional
hopeful
sad
beautiful, haunting, and raw. how to eat a pomegranate burrowed its way into my brain and it’s going to stay there for a long time
I don't often read poetry, but this collection had so much narrative pull I couldn't put it down. The restrained palette of metaphors, the way we came back again and again to pomegranates and physics (and everything else), the collective ache of every poem—this is a book I'm going to want to read again.
I picked this book up at random, falling for the cover and title. The beauty inside completely lived up to the packaging. I was surprised to find out this poet is local to my town. I adored the juxtaposition of physics, space, multiverse, grief, love, death. Honestly reading this at another time I would probably give it 5 stars... but in the drained mindset of this never ending pandemic I had to put it down a few times and come back to it. However, I think this could be a great comfort in a time of loss, at times it is painful to read, yes I cried, but as there is poetry in death, death in poetry, there is beauty too.
This wrecked me. WRECKED ME. Dead partner, tying science/astronomy to grief, and lots of red fruits. UGH MY HEART. Jesus. Sob. I love all the elegies here, and the poems tie together/reference each other beautifully. The octopus poem is especially good.
What a tremendously amazing book of poetry dealing with grief. There were so many lines that struck me. Here are just a few:
“It must still be there in the soil:
rust from the ribs of the stars
dividing in the rind of your skull, scissoring
one life into many.”
from “Red Giant” pg 9
“iv. Hiroshima
Think of a lit match-
how its head vanishes.”
from “Law of the Conservation of Mass” pg 22
“webs of mycelium have eaten
your nerve endings
and detritus curls like leaves
in the best of your aorta.”
from “Impossible Things” pg 41
“It must still be there in the soil:
rust from the ribs of the stars
dividing in the rind of your skull, scissoring
one life into many.”
from “Red Giant” pg 9
“iv. Hiroshima
Think of a lit match-
how its head vanishes.”
from “Law of the Conservation of Mass” pg 22
“webs of mycelium have eaten
your nerve endings
and detritus curls like leaves
in the best of your aorta.”
from “Impossible Things” pg 41
“But this is a supermarket, not a bedroom, and my cart is empty and I am wavering on the scuffed linoleum of the produce aisle, rubbing the skin of a pomegranate as if it were your hand.” Who let boygenius write a poetry collection secretly?
A heartbreaking collection poetry that uses the imagery and language of astrophysics to write about grief.
emotional
hopeful
reflective
sad
slow-paced