Muse Found in a Colonized Body: Stahlecker Selections
Autor Yesenia Montillaen Limba Engleză Paperback – 15 sep 2022
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781954245327
ISBN-10: 1954245327
Pagini: 108
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 8 mm
Greutate: 0.14 kg
Editura: FOUR WAY BOOKS
Colecția Four Way Books
Seria Stahlecker Selections
ISBN-10: 1954245327
Pagini: 108
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 8 mm
Greutate: 0.14 kg
Editura: FOUR WAY BOOKS
Colecția Four Way Books
Seria Stahlecker Selections
Recenzii
“Montilla writes: ‘having lost everything she touched / her own body & became…’ So here is a catalog of touches and the legacies of touches. Here is a trace of the poem inside the breath inside the fleeting, unfixable now. Here is a trace of the poet's will to testify and dream simultaneously. And Montilla is a poet of such beautiful imagination and vitality, that even as she writes ruin her lines carry the charge of indomitable desire. Her metaphors are, to me, resuscitations. An erotic, present, dreaming power coursing through.”
—Aracelis Girmay
"Muse Found in a Colonized Body flings off rusted shackles of the tongue and flesh in order to taste new languages, new bodies, and new freedoms. Yesenia Montilla is a true poet whose heart burns beyond silence, oppression, and death. In poems that challenge our flawed perceptions of joy, desire, fear, violence, and courage, Montilla observes 'this is how we muzzle the world ––' or 'and we still haven’t learned to live/as stars.' Her powers orbit and intuit the lives of Philando Castile, Captain America, Christian Cooper, Karl Marx, Ahmaud Arbery, Eartha Kitt, and many more while stitching our wounded identities, memories, and histories in defiant poems of revision and joyous reclamation. Montilla gathers and revives a celestial body that is always intimate and humanized, inspired in its rich calling. May the voice and gorgeous fires of Yesenia Montilla stay with us for years to come.”
–– Rachel Eliza Griffiths
—Aracelis Girmay
"Muse Found in a Colonized Body flings off rusted shackles of the tongue and flesh in order to taste new languages, new bodies, and new freedoms. Yesenia Montilla is a true poet whose heart burns beyond silence, oppression, and death. In poems that challenge our flawed perceptions of joy, desire, fear, violence, and courage, Montilla observes 'this is how we muzzle the world ––' or 'and we still haven’t learned to live/as stars.' Her powers orbit and intuit the lives of Philando Castile, Captain America, Christian Cooper, Karl Marx, Ahmaud Arbery, Eartha Kitt, and many more while stitching our wounded identities, memories, and histories in defiant poems of revision and joyous reclamation. Montilla gathers and revives a celestial body that is always intimate and humanized, inspired in its rich calling. May the voice and gorgeous fires of Yesenia Montilla stay with us for years to come.”
–– Rachel Eliza Griffiths
Extras
Muse Found in a Colonized Body
I.
They say when the Spaniards came we thought them
gods. They came with sincere eyes, but insincere
mouths and cocks they knew something about the
universe & we only knew about the earth, not
about the stars unless being guided by them is
a kind of knowing, but no, in those days the stars
knew us more than we them. & that might be the
difference between the wolf & the lamb, our
relationship to bounty. I think what I want
to say here is that to the wolf go the spoils & yet
there is something about being a lamb — the danger
the never knowing when the wolf will be hungry enough.
How do you not love yourself when you constantly
survive your undoing just by being precious?
I don’t like coyness, if I love you I will take your mouth
first because that is where the breathe lives, does that
make me a wolf, or does this: when I am near you
I shackle my intentions & feasts with my eyes, I won’t
dare eat of your flesh. How could I? It would be like
the snake that eats itself from the tail, eventually it
chokes on everything, it’s rough scales, it’s heart all
colonized & tender, the whole world becomes its
body half-eaten & dragging in the dirt—
There is no greater love than the love a wolf feels
for the lamb it doesn’t eat – Hélène Cisoux
for the lamb it doesn’t eat – Hélène Cisoux
I.
They say when the Spaniards came we thought them
gods. They came with sincere eyes, but insincere
mouths and cocks they knew something about the
universe & we only knew about the earth, not
about the stars unless being guided by them is
a kind of knowing, but no, in those days the stars
knew us more than we them. & that might be the
difference between the wolf & the lamb, our
relationship to bounty. I think what I want
to say here is that to the wolf go the spoils & yet
there is something about being a lamb — the danger
the never knowing when the wolf will be hungry enough.
How do you not love yourself when you constantly
survive your undoing just by being precious?
I don’t like coyness, if I love you I will take your mouth
first because that is where the breathe lives, does that
make me a wolf, or does this: when I am near you
I shackle my intentions & feasts with my eyes, I won’t
dare eat of your flesh. How could I? It would be like
the snake that eats itself from the tail, eventually it
chokes on everything, it’s rough scales, it’s heart all
colonized & tender, the whole world becomes its
body half-eaten & dragging in the dirt—