The New World: PoemsCurbstone Press, 2002 - 95 pages The New World is a series of poems on the post Cold War era, exploring the aftermath of wars, social upheaval, and growing regimentation in our culture (contrasted to the beauties of the natural world), with an apocalyptic vision of the future, presented in language that communicates directly and simply, laced with startling images that burn themselves into your consciousness. Marketing Plans: Author readings in San Francisco, New York, Los Angeles, Boston, Hartford. From "The Lightning Field," The New World Everything is selfish in the heart. The emptiness one feels is the collapsing of time from a seed that has sprouted the end of time, a seed we have tended carelessly with meticulous inattention. Everything is generous in the heart. The emptiness one feels is that same flower, the heart, which is too fond of life to wish it gone, but spends its days worried over what has not yet happened. Everything and nothing is in the heart. I watch an ant carry its planet-the insect Atlas-and if one thinks humans are not immense, think of that one, the size of two poppy seeds, and what, if it pays attention, despair might really mean. George Evans has published four books of poetry in the US and England, and received writing fellowships from the NEA, Lannan Foundation, and California Arts Council. He edited the popular national contemporary poetry and arts project Streetfare Journal, and has translated the poetry of Huu Thinh and Daisy Zamora. The New World is George Evans first book in 10 years. At present he lives in San Francisco. |
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arms Arts baby beauty become begins beneath birds blood bodies bones brain carry Cid Corman cities comes crossed Curbstone dark dead death dreams driving ears earth everything eyes face fear field figures fire flesh flower Foundation friends garden gone hands hard head heart Heaven holding humans hundred thousand invisible it's jungle leaving light live looking mama Marching matter mean memory Monkeys moon mountains moving never night ocean OK OK OK once pain painted passing past Pinkeye pointed poor remember rods rows sand shadow shut side silence skin sleep stand stars stone stop street things thought tongue touch trees Trucks Uncle understand universe waiting Walking Walking Papers walls watching wearing wind wish Wolf