Scratching the Ghost Book Õ 88 pages ✓ Randarenewables

Text Scratching the Ghost

Scratching the Ghost Book Õ 88 pages ✓ Randarenewables Í The stub of your left leg danglesas I hold you up my hands inserted under your armslike a child You are complaining about the itchthe burn; scratch the ghost of your calf and heel —from Scratching the GhostDexter L Booth's ruminations on loss in this awMourned a father absent ghosts of hometowns and childhood Here too is a Short Letter to the Twentieth Century and finally a Long Letter to the Twentieth Century as if across this collection the poet is mustering up the force to speak back to historyIn Dexter Booth's Scratching the Ghost a cracked egg means the universe is splitting the slap of a double dutch rope is a br This is an excellent book of poetry I really love the language and the passion in the poems I can't wait to read from this author

Dexter L. Booth Ô Scratching the Ghost Doc

Oken throated hymn and splitting a suealing hog is akin to lovemaking These are poems loyal to their own intrepid logic and reckless plausibility Yet lest the reader get too giddy in a fun house of mirrors here too are the melodic laments and remarkable lyric passages of a poet who acknowledges the infinite current of melancholy that underlines his journey Major Jackson The decision to give words to suffering is still a decision Under the WeatherThese poems were simply lovely and this book is something nice to ruminate on as the summer is winding down The poems are not overly complex and do not aspire to be what they are not I'm still convinced there is no differencebetween kneeling and falling if you don't get up Prayer at 3 amNevertheless they still manage to capture beauty in that sudden and instantaneous way that only a poem can If I could I would massage your age awaypush back the wrinkles with some child'sgrim reaper mask You can be a little girl foreverif you want Put on your glasses I'll spin you some We'll pretend that dawn isn't knockingI'll turn up the music switch off the porch lightsWe'll dance like there's nobody home Scratching the Ghost

Text Ó Scratching the Ghost Ô Dexter L. Booth

Scratching the GhostThe stub of your left leg danglesas I hold you up my hands inserted under your armslike a child You are complaining about the itchthe burn; scratch the ghost of your calf and heel from Scratching the GhostDexter L Booth's ruminations on loss in this award winning debut are rooted in a time past but one still palpable and persistent Here are memories of love lost family This ought to win a pushcart Booth should immediately be seuestered in a fortified hospital and pumped for poems he's a national treasure