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jonscott9's review against another edition
4.0
So thankful for Saeed Jones' voice in our world of letters. My high expectations for this 2022 tome of poems came after being absorbed into his sphere via the memoir How We Fight for Our Lives. It was painfully beautiful.
Here in Alive, he checks quite a few boxes on the iconic-artists passport – there's Aretha, Toni, Maya, Billie, Cicely, Whitney and Diahann – though despite those divas' appearances, I was perhaps most moved by the poem, "Little Richard Listens to Pat Boone Sing 'Tutti Fruitti.'" Appropriations of Black-made art are nothing new, never will be – see Ryan Charles' videotaped thoughts on Elvis Presley's fame – but they're jarring once one's eyes are opened to truth. (I won't say "woke." Fuck woke.)
Meditations on grief, that over the passing of his mother, are particularly poignant among Jones' pieces here. As soon as I finished, and probably before that, I realized that I need to sit with this batch of poems again before too long. So eager for what he writes next, apart from the Substack newsletter I already get, and am running toward the closest copy of Prelude to a Bruise, his previous work of poetry, that I can find. Candidly, time and again, Saeed Jones finds me.
Here in Alive, he checks quite a few boxes on the iconic-artists passport – there's Aretha, Toni, Maya, Billie, Cicely, Whitney and Diahann – though despite those divas' appearances, I was perhaps most moved by the poem, "Little Richard Listens to Pat Boone Sing 'Tutti Fruitti.'" Appropriations of Black-made art are nothing new, never will be – see Ryan Charles' videotaped thoughts on Elvis Presley's fame – but they're jarring once one's eyes are opened to truth. (I won't say "woke." Fuck woke.)
Meditations on grief, that over the passing of his mother, are particularly poignant among Jones' pieces here. As soon as I finished, and probably before that, I realized that I need to sit with this batch of poems again before too long. So eager for what he writes next, apart from the Substack newsletter I already get, and am running toward the closest copy of Prelude to a Bruise, his previous work of poetry, that I can find. Candidly, time and again, Saeed Jones finds me.
luosymekawa's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
fast-paced
5.0
“The end of the world was mistaken for just another midday massacre in America.”
An incredible book of poems. I will definitely be reading again.
An incredible book of poems. I will definitely be reading again.
nicomarlyse's review against another edition
5.0
“but now, ambered under this streetlight, he pulls me in for a kiss again and I decide, briefly, to let the world kill itself however it chooses: yes, I hear the sirens and I am their scream but tonight, I will moan a future into my man's mouth”
cleothegreat's review against another edition
4.0
‘The sky burns itself bright then bruises black. Things fall from the sky and those things might be water but could just as well be boys or bombs or billionaires or birds. Honestly, between your death and me, it doesn't matter or I don't know or I wasn't looking or I couldn't see because I've made a home out of how much I miss you and there's no one here to tell me I should leave.’
this whole collection aches of grief. my heart is absolutely shattered :( his poems about his relationship with his mom always get me
this whole collection aches of grief. my heart is absolutely shattered :( his poems about his relationship with his mom always get me