Joshua Weiner – författare

First Walk after Cancer. New ugly house (too big) with girl on porch cradling lacrosse stick; a Spanish lady, lost? Speaking Spanish to Bluetooth in her ear; tied rods of rebar webbing a bridge under repair; dude in red shorts, running-Hey, it's not that warm! no red wheelbarrow; white chick of seductive frame; ruined snow, wet street; sun meeting my face like a brother in a hospital room; laborers from China in hard hats and uniforms traversing embassy foundation, just a giant hole; Israeli grounds next door, cordoned off with cable, cameras at all corners; cops in car across the street, 7-Eleven coffee cooling on the hood; lost glove in bare tree; blue jay; my favorite shoes: green lights everywhere, seen, if not understood. At the heart of Joshua Weiner's new book is an extended poem with a bold political dimension and great intellectual ambition. It fuses the poet's point of view with Walt Whitman's to narrate a decentered time-traveling collage about Rock Creek, a tributary of the Potomac that runs through Washington, DC.For Weiner, Rock Creek is the location of myriad kinds of movement, streaming, and joining: personal enterprise and financial capital; national politics, murder, sex, and homelessness; the Civil War and collective history; music, spiritual awakening, personal memory, and pastoral vision. The questions that arise from the opening foundational poem inform the others in the collection, which range widely from the dramatic arrival of an uncanny charismatic totem that titles the volume to intimate reflections on family, illness, and dream visions. In "The Figure of a Man Being Swallowed by a Fish", Weiner has discovered a new poetic idiom, one that is stripped down, rhythmically jagged, and comprehensively philosophical about human limits.

The World's Room is a dynamic first collection in which the literary and the personal, the elevated and the slangy, the sacred and the profane are beautifully intertwined. From nursery rhymes to riddles to prose poems, Joshua Weiner's work displays boundless imaginative and linguistic possibilities.

The World's Room is a dynamic first collection in which the literary and the personal, the elevated and the slangy, the sacred and the profane are beautifully intertwined. From nursery rhymes to riddles to prose poems, Joshua Weiner's work displays boundless imaginative and linguistic possibilities.

Maverick gay poetic icon Thom Gunn (1929-2004) and his body of work have long dared the British and American poetry establishments either to claim or disavow him. To critics in the United Kingdom and United States alike, Gunn demonstrated that formal poetry could successfully include new speech rhythms and open forms, and that experimental styles could still maintain technical and intellectual rigor. Along the way, Gunn's verse captured the social upheavals of the 1960s, the existential possibilities of the late twentieth century, and the tumult of post-Stone-wall gay culture. The first book-length study of this major poet, "At the Barriers" surveys Gunn's career from his youth in 1930s Britain to his final years in California, from his earliest publications to his later unpublished notebooks, bringing together some of the most important poet-critics from both sides of the Atlantic to assess his oeuvre. This landmark volume traces how Gunn, in both his life and his writings, pushed at boundaries, be they geographic, sexual, or poetic. "At the Barriers" will solidify Gunn's rightful place in the pantheon of Anglo-American letters.

Song for Thom GunnThere is no east or westin the wood you fear and seek,stumbling past a gate of mossand what you would not take.And what you thought you had(the Here that is no rest)you make from it an aidto form no east, no west.No east.  No west.  No needfor given map or bell,vehicle, screen, or speed.Forget the house, forget the hill.Taking its title from a set of writings found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, From the Book of Giants retunes the signal broadcast from these ancient fragments, transmitting a new sound in the shape of a Roman drain cover, in imitations of Dante and Martial, in the voice of a cricket and the hard-boiled American photographer Weegee, in elegies both public and personal, and in poems that range from the social speech of letters to the gnomic language of riddles. Out of poetry’s “complex of complaint and praise,” Joshua Weiner discovers, in one poem, his own complicity in Empire during his son’s baseball game at the White House. In another, an embroidered parrot sings a hermetic nursery rhyme to an infant after 9/11.