Machete: Poems
Tomás Q. Morín
Okt 2021 · Penguin Random House Audio · Kimesimuliwa na Tomás Q. Morín
5.0star
Maoni mojareport
headphones
Kitabu cha kusikiliza
Dakika 59
Toleo kamili
family_home
Kimetimiza masharti
info
reportUkadiriaji na maoni hayajahakikishwa Pata Maelezo Zaidi
Je, ungependa sampuli ya Dakika 10? Sikiliza wakati wowote, hata ukiwa nje ya mtandao.
Ongeza
Kuhusu kitabu hiki cha kusikiliza
This fresh voice in American poetry wields lyric pleasure and well-honed insight against a cruel century that would kill us with a thousand cuts.
"Morín's writing uses the mundane details of everyday life...as a jumping-off point for creating fascinating and philosophical worlds." —LitHub
"Dios aprieta, pero no ahorca" ("God squeezes, but He doesn't strangle")--the epigraph of Machete--sets the stage for a powerful poet who summons a variety of ways to endure life when there's an invisible hand at your throat. Tomás Morín hails from the coastal plains of Texas, and explores a world where identity and place shift like that ever-changing shore.
In these poems, culture crashes like waves and leaves behind Billie Holiday and the CIA, disco balls and Dante, the Bible and Jerry Maguire. They are long, lean, and dazzle in their telling: "Whiteface" is a list of instructions for people stopped by the police; "Duct Tape" lauds our domestic life from the point of view of the tape itself.
One part Groucho Marx, one part Job, Morín considers our obsession with suffering--"the pain in which we trust"--and finds that the best answer to our predicament is sometimes anger, sometimes laughter, but always via the keen line between them that may be the sharpest weapon we have.
"Morín's writing uses the mundane details of everyday life...as a jumping-off point for creating fascinating and philosophical worlds." —LitHub
"Dios aprieta, pero no ahorca" ("God squeezes, but He doesn't strangle")--the epigraph of Machete--sets the stage for a powerful poet who summons a variety of ways to endure life when there's an invisible hand at your throat. Tomás Morín hails from the coastal plains of Texas, and explores a world where identity and place shift like that ever-changing shore.
In these poems, culture crashes like waves and leaves behind Billie Holiday and the CIA, disco balls and Dante, the Bible and Jerry Maguire. They are long, lean, and dazzle in their telling: "Whiteface" is a list of instructions for people stopped by the police; "Duct Tape" lauds our domestic life from the point of view of the tape itself.
One part Groucho Marx, one part Job, Morín considers our obsession with suffering--"the pain in which we trust"--and finds that the best answer to our predicament is sometimes anger, sometimes laughter, but always via the keen line between them that may be the sharpest weapon we have.
Ukadiriaji na maoni
5.0
Maoni moja
Kuhusu mwandishi
TOMÁS Q. MORÍN is the author of the memoir Let Me Count the Ways, forthcoming from University of Nebraska Press, as well as the poetry collections Patient Zero and A Larger Country. He is coeditor, with Mari L'Esperance, of the anthology Coming Close: Forty Essays on Philip Levine and translator of The Heights of Macchu Picchu by Pablo Neruda. He teaches at Rice University and Vermont College of Fine Arts. Morín lives with his family in Texas.
Kadiria kitabu hiki cha kusikiliza
Tupe maoni yako.
Jinsi ya kupata kitabu cha kusikiliza
Simu mahiri na kompyuta vibao
Sakinisha programu ya Vitabu vya Google Play kwa ajili ya Android na iPad au iPhone. Itasawazishwa kiotomatiki kwenye akaunti yako na kukuruhusu usome vitabu mtandaoni au nje ya mtandao popote ulipo.
Kompyuta za kupakata na kompyuta
Unaweza kusoma vitabu vilivyonunuliwa kwenye Google Play kwa kutumia kivinjari wavuti cha kompyuta yako.
