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These poems are about poverty, family, loss, the vast significance of the everyday, the wisdom of eating when you are hungry. But mostly about love. Here's a poem: I AM A KNOWN BREAKER OF BROKEN THINGS: I am a known breaker of broken things. / I can guarantee the permanent dismantling / of anything even moderately salvageable. / While gluing the handle back on your / favorite mug? / I will undoubtedly manage to chip the rim. / Patching your jeans I'll blow a seam / rendering them unwearable. // Listen. // Next time you're on your hands and knees / digging through dust bunnies for those lost…mehr

Produktbeschreibung
These poems are about poverty, family, loss, the vast significance of the everyday, the wisdom of eating when you are hungry. But mostly about love. Here's a poem: I AM A KNOWN BREAKER OF BROKEN THINGS: I am a known breaker of broken things. / I can guarantee the permanent dismantling / of anything even moderately salvageable. / While gluing the handle back on your / favorite mug? / I will undoubtedly manage to chip the rim. / Patching your jeans I'll blow a seam / rendering them unwearable. // Listen. // Next time you're on your hands and knees / digging through dust bunnies for those lost batteries. / You. Will. Regret. The day / I offered to fix the remote control / because I inevitably manage to crack / the plastic snap off the back, / that delicate tab meant to / hold everything together. // I'm not the best at keeping it together. // See, my dad was the guy who'd give you / a reason to cry if you couldn't supply / a full alibi for every. Single. Tear. /Complaining about scraped knees or bee / stings earned a two-fold return in the currency / of pain, teaching a younger me / the most efficient means / to overcome one agony / is replacing it with another. / I don't mean to be blunt / but the force of trauma was the only lesson / I ever learned from love. / I will be a kick in the ribs / when what you needed was someone / to kiss it better. // Darling, I can see the seams / where your delicate dreams are knitting themselves / back together. // So please. // Don't offer me those parallel lines, / scar tissue rungs strung / across your upper thighs, / the ladder you climb to escape / each personal hell. // Don't tell me the history of your body. / Describe the trajectory and delicacy / of stick-thin child limbs, / plaster walls elastically / absorbing the full weight of you / after mom had one-too-many gin nightmares. // You are porcelain / and these hands were tempered in concrete. / Your wings might be a bit bent (testament / to the turbulence they underwent) but / they are healing. // Don't tempt me to fix you. / I am a known breaker of broken things.
Autorenporträt
Brenda Taulbee, a Missoula, Montana transplant, came to Portland, Oregon in 2012 with aspirations of playing international rugby. Prior to moving she studied Anthropology & Linguistics at the University of Montana. Her variety of odd jobs include burrito-slinger, manager of a doggie daycare, & a very brief interlude as a roofer. To pump it up on her way to work she listens to Kimya Dawson, Regina Spektor, Ingrid Michaelson, etc. To unwind her way home she defaults to her iTunes shuffle. Brenda had her first public reading, Sept., 2012, through the Stone Soup Reading series in Portland & published her chapbook, Dances with Bears...& Other Ways to Lose a Limb, in June 2013. Her work has published in several literary print & online magazines & publications, incl. Gobshite Quarterly (completely multilingual en-face semi-annual flip book double trouble double issue), The Inflectionist Review, The Los Angeles Review, Grist, Nailed, & UnderGround Books. She has just completed an MFA writing program at SDSU, & returned to Portland, where she is working on her thesis with her cat, Murphy's Law. Her awards include the Dr. Minas Savvas Endowed Fellowship and the Sarah B. Marsh-Rebelo Scholarship for Poetry.