Returning to a sadly departed talent, I have been enjoying Max Ritvo’s upcomming posthumous The Final Voicemails. Edited by Louise Glück and published by Milkweed Editions, this is a tender collection of poetry that move in and out of focus around the end of his life.
Endlessly shifting between the pain of existing in a body and a bright potential of living beyond as an idea. Forever there is a solid reality in the poetry which is then pushed against by the quick hard souls of the feet out into the lightness of space. It’s what you expect, dreaming of being ripples out there in the world beyond your own existence.
It this joyous search for the good existence beyond your own that strikes a chord with me. For example, when you’re nothing you’re everything — and so you are everything you love too.
And this is mixed in with classical references. The posed question of how time feels to Atlas — a man with a big burden might see it as unimportant. He looks instead at the sheep devouring the sweating plants — so much effort into giving life, to be eaten by one another. Delphi is asked not what the gods think, but what she thinks, in a flirtation.
The collection was read in my favourite kind of moment — those snatched from someone else. But in this I felt a little greedy — every shiver from a line not really belonging to me, because it belongs to everyone.
The Final Voicemails is out on 11th September from Milkweed Editions
I had some poems published in Terror House Magazine — they’re a bit weird and panicked, but I think they say what I wanted to say. I’ve grown to love the feelings a little better.
This is also a recent culmination of trying to use techniques discussed by some of my favourite poets, and I am hoping the roots show.
Sam also had a few pieces in Terror House Magazine this week, all of which I am in love with. Really clever structure and use of repetition, wordplay and, er, sauciness.
In other ctrl+f news, there happened to be this this week in Eunoia Review by Catherine Kyle: This One Easy Keyboard Shortcut Will Change Your Life
This week’s song is Heartbeats by The Knife
Thank you for reading Etch To Their Own. It was written by @CJEggett — the devil on your shoulder. It has been a good week for writing, but I have also found myself a job — so it is also a good time for confusingly retaining information in jumbled orders. Remember, you can always run away tomorrow. Next week I hope to be covering The Years by Annie Ernaux. My love is yours, frazzles, crispy, and shattering under enthusiastic forking.