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Andrea Brady. Liberties: The White Wish, The City Adorned Like a Bride. A rutted and taxed sublime is prone throughout these great challenges, soaring as they do and crashing between erotic panic and gazes strictly levelled. Brady lights up the labour of political commitment under an assault of intimate lyric strobes and epical tenors; these are fierce unmastered love poems, truly a heart brazen broken and smashing through either release and either finish. 1999. 52 pp. OUT OF PRINT
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book to stare at like folds in fabric (liberty's gown)
until the complications of its figures make themselves
insistently present.' -Nada Gordon in readme 1. 'Andrea Brady stands as tall as you want while she rips your pea-brain (mine, anyway) into smithereens, flowing, protoliterate incursions into inchoate bliss and something opposite -- isn't this what we all need now?' -Jack Kimball on the Boston Alternative Poetry Conference, 1999
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feathers cling to the corner of the door. We have shut this paradise, tugging gently on its golden reeds under a canopy of possible snow until they gave way and laid lengthways across the spongy ground. By the monikers of God moving restlessly, relentlessly up over the broken horizon towards us we take a few pills, shift, basing our claims on the laxity of our wills as true criteria for noticing that laxity, a grim city life, a desire to reform in the spattered rooms and come up here again. Darkened hues scatter their flattery like an articulated universal poverty into the damp corners of our basement place, and yet we have loved each other, been moved, and driven all night. On a row of molten hooks we arrayed these few notes, hope, deepened intentions brought on by an adolescence of our social desire. Still and tossing stillness into the cool wasteward fund of air I can, still, call this number up, and beg the rights before an intransigent audience of the divine. I can, still, nonetheless, lying deep in it, look upward and float steadily with you on this shiftless barge. I do not know how to be a better person. Each version cracks like a glass flooded with hot water, dispersing its heat into the taking mass. And yet we have done this, and will do this in the verge where God's finger no longer picks on our petty fragrant ornaments. Oh leave off fighting with me, spread this angel over the perfumed ground. |
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Articles
Reviews
Poetry
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also available: Vacation of a Lifetime(Cambridge and Applecross, Australia: Salt, 2001).
144
pp.
ISBN
1-876857-16-1. "Freedom to move through different gears allows the recycling of different registers to overlap without straining the juxtaposition of local word games and harsh political realities. The fire power generated by torpedoes of excess is just what these poems need and theres plenty of transgression. If some of the poems relate to news stories whose urgency has faded in the light of subsequent events, theres still something new about the sense of a political testament, a record of what it means to face up to the problems of the present. This book is not for the faint-hearted, and it takes a while to find ways into the brasher surfaces, but it is a rare example of a book of poems where the struggle between political radicalism and poetic form is worth sharing. Despite its title, Vacation of a Lifetime is no holiday." --Keith Elliot, Terrible Work
"Effecting an off-site sifting of virulently
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