Poetry Comes Up Where It Can: An Anthology: Poems from the Amicus Journal, 1990-2000

By: Swann, Brian

Book Overview

Walk with this book to find some of the unexpected places where poetry can flourish. Discover poetry growing "where it can" in the infinite and in the microscopic, from the Milky Way to a snowflake's... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0874806445
• ISBN13: 9780874806441
• Release Date: February 2000
• Publisher: University of Utah Press
• Length: 192 Pages
• Weight: 0.65 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.6" x 6.0" x 8.0"

Customer Reviews

Reflects the common them of struggling with issues of nature

Drawn from the pages of The Amicus Journal (a quarterly publication of the Natural Resources Defense Council), the poets and poetry selected by Brian Swan for Poetry Comes Up Where It Can reflect the common them of struggling with issues of nature and the environment during the final decade of the millennium. Windfall: Eating an apple, I think of Emerson/in another railroad berth/traveling to another Chautauqua. This time,//maybe it's summer, he's passing/apple orchards in Ohio where/he half dreams a bumblebee//sipping nectar--in it belly, a mite/glows with mite joy. In the mite's belly,/other living things the size of atoms//climb mountains...but he's tired/of revelation. It's certain the cosmos/is an orchard, or tree, or single bee//bearing the whole apple future, & Boston,/from one field to another,/ & bearing him. He'll lecture this audience//to find & live the secret of any windfall,/to try, for god's sake, to love//that which is obvious, & themselves.

An impressive compendium of nature/environmental poetry.

Drawn from the pages of The Amicus Journal (a quarterly publication of the Natural Resources Defense Council), the poets and poetry selected by Brian Swan for Poetry Comes Up Where It Can reflect the common them of struggling with issues of nature and the environment during the final decade of the millennium. Windfall: Eating an apple, I think of Emerson/in another railroad berth/traveling to another Chautauqua. This time,//maybe it's summer, he's passing/apple orchards in Ohio where/he half dreams a bumblebee//sipping nectar--in it belly, a mite/glows with mite joy. In the mite's belly,/other living things the size of atoms//climb mountains...but he's tired/of revelation. It's certain the cosmos/is an orchard, or tree, or single bee//bearing the whole apple future, & Boston,/from one field to another,/ & bearing him. He'll lecture this audience//to find & live the secret of any windfall,/to try, for god's sake, to love//that which is obvious, & themselves.