I liked this book a lot, as I expected. Kendra Grant Malone is one of my favorite contemporary poets. These poems are about a woman living in New York City, drinking wine, crying, having sex, talking to her boyfriend, feeling angry, pitying herself, chasing pigeons, reflecting on her family members, her disabled brother---so many things.
The poem "Sylvia Plath At Sixteen" made me cry on a bus.
"I Never Believed In God" seems like a perfect poem, if such a thing exists.
"Little Girls Are Women Somehow In Some Way."
I don't know what to say. There's a lot of human emotion in this book.
"there is really no way / for me to explain how / really very pretty and / totally enthralling you are"
"i understand you / better when / you speak your / language rather / than mine"
"i'm not sure / how many more years / i can go on with this / being the only / the only / apparently the only / the only / the only one who loves / my dear brother"
"i chase things / that no one views / as precious / so that i am not looked upon / as a monster / (although i am)"
"all i can think of / is that i want you all / to be quiet / very quiet / quiet as death / so i can think about / myself / without your cries / and wails and fits / of interpretation"