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The Only Gardening I Do Is When I Give Up

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Thomas Fucaloro is a bottle in lightning-a typo that's better than the correction-a gentle soul raging like thunderous ocean. Whether spoken on stage or off page, Fucaloro's poems sound and read like a poetic Piano Man; they commiserate with those drinking loneliness and provide sobering truths on celebrating our lives in all the humanity and humannes we can muster. Thomas writes like a man possessed with purpose, like a dainty 18th century alchemist consumed with creating works of gold worthy of the finest broken Japanese teacup.-M. A. Dennis, Host & Curator of the National Writers Union Reading Series Fucaloro is his own gravitational force, comprised of vulnerability, earnestness, and humor. Like Rumi, his poems are easy on the eyes with a simplicity that is sneakily complex. You can't help but cry and laugh and learn about yourself and the poet.-Advocate of Wordz Is a salad without croutons a salad worth eating? In his book The Only Gardening I Do Is When I Give Up Fucaloro has written a series of tornadoes and inside those tornadoes are croutons and when I say croutons I mean a violin playing hippo, a way out through a stuffed elephant, a receding ocean, a plate of pasta, a pulsing mother, all things expansive. Open your mouth and take a bite, crunch your way through these meaty poems, I promise you won't want to stop for water.-Vanessa Chica Ferreira

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  • Sprog:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9781646629336
  • Indbinding:
  • Paperback
  • Sideantal:
  • 46
  • Udgivet:
  • 26. august 2022
  • Størrelse:
  • 140x3x216 mm.
  • Vægt:
  • 72 g.
  • BLACK WEEK
Leveringstid: 8-11 hverdage
Forventet levering: 10. december 2024

Beskrivelse af The Only Gardening I Do Is When I Give Up

Thomas Fucaloro is a bottle in lightning-a typo that's better than the correction-a gentle soul raging like thunderous ocean. Whether spoken on stage or off page, Fucaloro's poems sound and read like a poetic Piano Man; they commiserate with those drinking loneliness and provide sobering truths on celebrating our lives in all the humanity and humannes we can muster. Thomas writes like a man possessed with purpose, like a dainty 18th century alchemist consumed with creating works of gold worthy of the finest broken Japanese teacup.-M. A. Dennis, Host & Curator of the National Writers Union Reading Series
Fucaloro is his own gravitational force, comprised of vulnerability, earnestness, and humor. Like Rumi, his poems are easy on the eyes with a simplicity that is sneakily complex. You can't help but cry and laugh and learn about yourself and the poet.-Advocate of Wordz
Is a salad without croutons a salad worth eating? In his book The Only Gardening I Do Is When I Give Up Fucaloro has written a series of tornadoes and inside those tornadoes are croutons and when I say croutons I mean a violin playing hippo, a way out through a stuffed elephant, a receding ocean, a plate of pasta, a pulsing mother, all things expansive. Open your mouth and take a bite, crunch your way through these meaty poems, I promise you won't want to stop for water.-Vanessa Chica Ferreira

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