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G-Point Almanac: Id Est
Poetry. "So much in g-point id est (9.22-12.21) is ventured; so much here is profound. Kevin Varrone meets, dares, slips past what is assumed to be reality; language, volant, 'fails, too,' leaving us with 'what's beyond the said thing.' His poetry shivers with hairline fractures, the same as the cities he describes, with familiarities folded into oddnesses. Over and over, he moves us to spaces where we find ourselves surprised that we are so moved. 'How to put it all in,' he asks, 'the hollow earth, three cities, one sheet of paper?' But he does"--Marcella Durand. Varrone is co-founder of Beautiful Swimmer Press. He teaches at Temple University and the University of the Arts in Philadelphia. This is his first full-length collection.
- GenresPoetry
96 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2007
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
June 6, 2024
....ellipses for excerpts taken mid-line. other excerpts are not designated but are part of page-long pieces within the various sections (separated by stars*.
evidently, i'm really into this book....thanks T.M.
___
...nothing breaks
bones like an edict or a city lost its sea.
*
flight & words & weather. light & you. & as you sd, nothing
else disturbs the air in such a way.
*
...one instant midair & what one makes of it.
from "stenos from indian summer ( 9.29-10.12 )"
__
how, flightless & fearless, dodos walked right up to extinction.
*
how the sentence hems & papa
how it stutters &
slants in the mouth.
from "the how codas"
__
...articles in the mouth, fermenting.
*
how many licks to the center of tautology? how many skulls totem the spine?
(how many cups of tea are we from one another, franklin & kent, chopin
chemists, terminal warehouse, dzien dobry?) day of the no & simon &
judes'--the trickling increment. squaw winter. snatch the frame. dying is in-
evitable now but not yet simple. there's still the lifting capacity of air, quarter-
hours sliding into parentheses. the burnished little wingtips of philosophy.
*
this one precept: neither a lens nor lens grinder be.
from "pro se ( 10.20-11.2 )"
___
12.13
those ignorant of history are bound to love the factoid.
*
12.21
walk set route: dogs, things, point, jot.
is this, it, in the mouth, life
is it,
chewed over, then,
mulled cider?
I cannot remember the rain anymore,
e, though I cannot forget how it fell.
like which to prefer. I swallowed a fly.
soon comes
(the beginning of the end, etc.)
:winter
you smug little fuck.
from "ancillariums ( 12.4-12.21 )"
evidently, i'm really into this book....thanks T.M.
___
...nothing breaks
bones like an edict or a city lost its sea.
*
flight & words & weather. light & you. & as you sd, nothing
else disturbs the air in such a way.
*
...one instant midair & what one makes of it.
from "stenos from indian summer ( 9.29-10.12 )"
__
how, flightless & fearless, dodos walked right up to extinction.
*
how the sentence hems & papa
how it stutters &
slants in the mouth.
from "the how codas"
__
...articles in the mouth, fermenting.
*
how many licks to the center of tautology? how many skulls totem the spine?
(how many cups of tea are we from one another, franklin & kent, chopin
chemists, terminal warehouse, dzien dobry?) day of the no & simon &
judes'--the trickling increment. squaw winter. snatch the frame. dying is in-
evitable now but not yet simple. there's still the lifting capacity of air, quarter-
hours sliding into parentheses. the burnished little wingtips of philosophy.
*
this one precept: neither a lens nor lens grinder be.
from "pro se ( 10.20-11.2 )"
___
12.13
those ignorant of history are bound to love the factoid.
*
12.21
walk set route: dogs, things, point, jot.
is this, it, in the mouth, life
is it,
chewed over, then,
mulled cider?
I cannot remember the rain anymore,
e, though I cannot forget how it fell.
like which to prefer. I swallowed a fly.
soon comes
(the beginning of the end, etc.)
:winter
you smug little fuck.
from "ancillariums ( 12.4-12.21 )"
March 15, 2012
....ellipses for excerpts taken mid-line. other excerpts are not designated but are part of page-long pieces within the various sections (separated by stars*.
evidently, i'm really into this book....thanks T.M.
___
...nothing breaks
bones like an edict or a city lost its sea.
*
flight & words & weather. light & you. & as you sd, nothing
else disturbs the air in such a way.
*
...one instant midair & what one makes of it.
from "stenos from indian summer ( 9.29-10.12 )"
__
how, flightless & fearless, dodos walked right up to extinction.
*
how the sentence hems & papa
how it stutters &
slants in the mouth.
from "the how codas"
__
...articles in the mouth, fermenting.
*
how many licks to the center of tautology? how many skulls totem the spine?
(how many cups of tea are we from one another, franklin & kent, chopin
chemists, terminal warehouse, dzien dobry?) day of the no & simon &
judes'--the trickling increment. squaw winter. snatch the frame. dying is in-
evitable now but not yet simple. there's still the lifting capacity of air, quarter-
hours sliding into parentheses. the burnished little wingtips of philosophy.
*
this one precept: neither a lens nor lens grinder be.
from "pro se ( 10.20-11.2 )"
___
12.13
those ignorant of history are bound to love the factoid.
*
12.21
walk set route: dogs, things, point, jot.
is this, it, in the mouth, life
is it,
chewed over, then,
mulled cider?
I cannot remember the rain anymore,
e, though I cannot forget how it fell.
like which to prefer. I swallowed a fly.
soon comes
(the beginning of the end, etc.)
:winter
you smug little fuck.
from "ancillariums ( 12.4-12.21 )"
evidently, i'm really into this book....thanks T.M.
___
...nothing breaks
bones like an edict or a city lost its sea.
*
flight & words & weather. light & you. & as you sd, nothing
else disturbs the air in such a way.
*
...one instant midair & what one makes of it.
from "stenos from indian summer ( 9.29-10.12 )"
__
how, flightless & fearless, dodos walked right up to extinction.
*
how the sentence hems & papa
how it stutters &
slants in the mouth.
from "the how codas"
__
...articles in the mouth, fermenting.
*
how many licks to the center of tautology? how many skulls totem the spine?
(how many cups of tea are we from one another, franklin & kent, chopin
chemists, terminal warehouse, dzien dobry?) day of the no & simon &
judes'--the trickling increment. squaw winter. snatch the frame. dying is in-
evitable now but not yet simple. there's still the lifting capacity of air, quarter-
hours sliding into parentheses. the burnished little wingtips of philosophy.
*
this one precept: neither a lens nor lens grinder be.
from "pro se ( 10.20-11.2 )"
___
12.13
those ignorant of history are bound to love the factoid.
*
12.21
walk set route: dogs, things, point, jot.
is this, it, in the mouth, life
is it,
chewed over, then,
mulled cider?
I cannot remember the rain anymore,
e, though I cannot forget how it fell.
like which to prefer. I swallowed a fly.
soon comes
(the beginning of the end, etc.)
:winter
you smug little fuck.
from "ancillariums ( 12.4-12.21 )"
February 21, 2015
I felt my insides gobble up the ghosts of street corners, like feral cat embodied looks up to the smog stained roof glass reflecting moon mother whispers.
April 22, 2009
Varrone's intelligent and original first book. Published by Instance Press.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews