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car8line's review against another edition
3.0
Verses I liked: pg. 9 "I wanted to be made out of nothing but your voice"
pg. 68 "Nothing really happens to you when you're dreaming
Everyone alive is alive
everyone dead is
again"
pg. 70 "This is the last dream I ever want to have"
pg. 71- just the alliteration of "toxic tuxedos"
pg. 77 "I've always wanted my body
to work harder
at being alive
The light you see in veins"
pg. 68 "Nothing really happens to you when you're dreaming
Everyone alive is alive
everyone dead is
again"
pg. 70 "This is the last dream I ever want to have"
pg. 71- just the alliteration of "toxic tuxedos"
pg. 77 "I've always wanted my body
to work harder
at being alive
The light you see in veins"
serenaac's review against another edition
4.0
Michael Dickman‘s Flies, published in 2011 and a possible candidate for the Indie Lit Awards if it is nominated in September, won the Academy of American Poets James Laughlin Award, which is the only award for a second book of poetry. The collection is a dark look at family, but also takes a stark look at death and loss. However, there are lighter moments in the book, like in “Emily Dickinson to the Rescue” (page 21) that was highlighted in the Virtual Poetry Circle (http://savvyverseandwit.com/2011/07/105th-virtual-poetry-circle.html).
Beneath the whimsical wordplay and imagery of playgrounds and imaginary friends, there is a deep sense of unrest and yet acceptance of how things have turned out, though the narrator has many regrets. In “Imaginary Playground” (page 27), the narrator is playing alone with his imaginary friends, but as the scene fills in, it is clear that where there once were trees and places to play, there is concrete and change. The narrator is nostalgic for those moments, even if they were solitary moments with imaginary friends — wishing there was a way to return to the innocence of childhood and the creativity that period imbued. “The swing sets/aren’t really/there// . . . On the blacktop/we lie down in each other’s arms/and outline our bodies/in chalk// . . . There are no hiding places anymore//” (page 27-9)
Read the full review beginning Aug. 4: http://savvyverseandwit.com/2011/08/flies-by-michael-dickman.html
Beneath the whimsical wordplay and imagery of playgrounds and imaginary friends, there is a deep sense of unrest and yet acceptance of how things have turned out, though the narrator has many regrets. In “Imaginary Playground” (page 27), the narrator is playing alone with his imaginary friends, but as the scene fills in, it is clear that where there once were trees and places to play, there is concrete and change. The narrator is nostalgic for those moments, even if they were solitary moments with imaginary friends — wishing there was a way to return to the innocence of childhood and the creativity that period imbued. “The swing sets/aren’t really/there// . . . On the blacktop/we lie down in each other’s arms/and outline our bodies/in chalk// . . . There are no hiding places anymore//” (page 27-9)
Read the full review beginning Aug. 4: http://savvyverseandwit.com/2011/08/flies-by-michael-dickman.html
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