By Mark Doty
Mark Doty's final award-winning collections of poetry, in addition to his acclaimed memoir Heaven's Coast, used the devastation of AIDS as a lens by which to think about questions of loss, love and identification. The poems in his new assortment, Sweet Machine, see the realm from a brand new, hard-won standpoint: A coming again to existence, after loads dying, a manner of seeing the body's "sweet machine" no longer easily as a time bomb, but additionally as a colourful, sensual, dwelling factor. those poems are themselves "sweet machines"--lyrical, exuberant and joyous--and they mark another milestone within the outstanding profession of 1 of our such a lot unusual and comprehensive poets.
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Additional info for Sweet Machine: Poems
Yet i will be able to let you know this, what I’ve visible that gained my allegiance such a lot, even though it was once additionally the hallmark of our break, and quickly as whatever visible in transit: the place new york ends within the narrowing geographical identical of a sigh (asphalt, arc of trestle, dull-witted commercial tanks and scaffoldings, old now, visited by way of not anyone) at the concrete embankment simply above the river, a unexpected density and focus of trash, a lot I couldn’t decide upon anybody factor from our emerging song because it arced onto the bridge over the glorious accumulation of jetsam and contraband strewn lower than the uncompromising vault of heaven. an incredible mess, so heaped and scattered it appeared the middle of chaos itself— yet no, the junk was once prepared in tough aisles, someone’s intimate muddle and assortment, no partitions yet nonetheless one of those condominium, and a hearth ribboned out of a ruined range, and white plates have been laid out at the desk beside it. White china! anything used to be relocating, and —you comprehend it takes longer to inform this than to determine it, in basic terms a educate window’s worthy of reality— I knew what moved was once an arm, the arm of the (man or lady? ) within the heart of that hapless welter in layer upon layer of coats blankets scarves until eventually the shape constituted another grey unreadable; whoever was once lifting a hammer, and bringing it down back, tapping at what paintings I couldn’t say; whoever, less than the nice exhausted dome of iciness gentle, which the steep and metal surfaces of the town made either extra smooth and extra serious, was once making anything, or repairing, was once within the act (sheer obdurate nerve of it) of placing jointly. Who is familiar with what. (And there has been extra, extra I’d take all spring to determine. I’d choose my seat and set my paper down to check him back —he, convinced, a few days now not at domestic notwithstanding often in, huddled through the smoldering, and whilst my eye wandered —five-second increments of apprehension—I observed he had a puppy! Who lay part in part out his doghouse within the rain, golden head resting on splayed paws. He had a ruined automobile, and tons of garments, and issues to learn— used to be no brand, in different phrases, yet a citizen, who’d outfitted a citizen’s loved ones, even at the literal part, whereas I watched from my speedy, excessive position, hurtling over his encampment by means of the waters of Babylon. ) Then we have been long gone, within the warmth and draft of our silver, damn over the river into the South Bronx, opposed to whose greasy skyline rose that neoned billboard for cigarettes which hostages my awareness, consistently, because it is intended to do, its motto ruby at the hours of darkness morning: ALIVE WITH excitement. one of many ROOMING homes OF HEAVEN final evening I dreamed of Bobby back, my previous good friend lifeless those years. humorous he’s the one that comes again to me; we weren’t ever that shut, yet occasionally I pay attention him speaking within the kitchen, whereas I’m cooking, his disdain for no matter what I’m dreaming up nearly affectionate. final evening we have been in a lodge among worlds, the type of position the place he felt such a lot at domestic: reliable warmth within the radiators, effortless lease, bathtub down the corridor, every thing uncomplicated.