David C. Ward's first full-length poetry collection combines wry meditations on twenty-first-century life, work and family with observations of America - its landscapes, its history, its politics. Ward's poems are peopled by those who seem never quite able to inhabit their own lives, from Andy Warhol or Weldon Kees ('Case closed. / No body was ever found') to Ward's own father, playing poker against himself in the early hours. The book's final section turns an unflinching gaze on the post-9/11 USA and its self-deceptions.
Dieser Download kann aus rechtlichen Gründen nur mit Rechnungsadresse in A, B, BG, CY, CZ, D, DK, EW, E, FIN, F, GR, H, IRL, I, LT, L, LR, M, NL, PL, P, R, S, SLO, SK ausgeliefert werden.