Bøger af Emily Corwin

Marble Orchard explores physical and psychic pain through ekphrastic poems (in response to film and to paintings), crowd-sourced writing from overheard conversations, and formal pieces that use the vessels of traditional poetic forms.

"Emily Corwin's sensorium is a gurlesque party, is lush and anxious and blossoming with rot. In her second collection, Corwin investigates the textures of physical and psychic pain-the celluloid of classic horror films, greasy computer screens and text messages, ballrooms and hallways and pig blood, surgical instruments, lipsticks, medication, teenage romance and demons. Sensorium considers the beauty in body horror, the viscera boiling under a pretty crust"--

Between the thorns of the Brothers Grimm and the labyrinthine chambers of Angela Carter, Emily Corwin's new collection of poems is red of tooth, claw, and lipstick. Within this vivid cycle of fabulism and erotica, of witches and absent princes, metamorphosis and dreamscapes, her work is a grimoire, a map for the territories of the unconscious.

When the cutie-pie was opened, the birds began to sing, and what they sang was glittery and savage and fearless and dangerous—be careful with this book.—Catherine Wagner, author of Nervous DeviceThe fanged fairy of Emily Corwin’s forest-mud-stained collection asserts and sings with short rhymes and glitter-spells, and just as you’ve followed her into the deepest and darkest part of the woods, terrified, you’re asked to run away together / and promise to never / do this heart-skipping thing / with anyone else.Don’t be surprised when you find yourself answering yes, yes, yes.Confronting and darling, every word a perfect warm circlet of pink blood, My Tall Handsome raids every crystal jar on the lace-topped vanity for truth, poison, and song until you can’t remember why you ever thought pretty was better than powerful, sugar was better than bitter medicine, or dancing needed more music than your own voice.I sip the goblet down, tip it upside down / wear it as / a hat / I am a new shiny thing / and I steal you away from the hoopla hullabaloo rumpusYou won’t resist this kidnapping into the orchard, into the crabapple abracadabra—it is too crystalline a taking, and there are too many delicious chants to chant along the way.