9 Ergebnisse.

Civil twilight is the astronomical term for the minutes just before sunrise and just after sunset. In this collection, National Book Award finalist Cynthia Huntington examines the civil twilight we live in now, unsure of whether the darkness is closing in or whether the light is about to break.

Keine Beschreibung.

Keine Beschreibung.

National Book Award Finalist 2012 In this blistering collection of lyric poems, Cynthia Huntington gives an intimate view of the sexual revolution and rebellion in a time before the rise of feminism. "Heavenly Bodies "is a testament to the duality of sex, the twin seductiveness and horror of drug addiction, and the social, political, and personal dramas of America in the 1960s. From the sweetness of purloined blackberries to the bitter taste o...

In Fire Muse, Cynthia Huntington returns to the back shore of Provincetown and the beach and dunes that inspired her 1999 memoir, The Salt House. Reflecting on place, time, and memory, Huntington¿s poems display a kind of ecstasy born of love for her surroundings and a keen awareness of their sweep and details. Attentive to the outer world as well as what lies within, in these poems we find Huntington exploring her deepening bond with a famili...

In this bold and ambitious book-length poem, National Book Award finalist Cynthia Huntington explores exile and migration - what it means to lose, seek, and find home in all its iterations - through a polyphonic work, written in multiple voices.

We Have Gone to the Beach is a collection of lyric and narrative poems, many of them set in Southern California, in which the disquieting aspects of contemporary suburban culture are explored, often in a darkly humerous light. At the heart of the book is a cycle of poems about specific individuals whose lives enact the states of social and spiritual crisis shared by the author.

A woman writer's lyrical memoir of a summer with her artist husband in a remote Cape Cod dune shack.

In Cynthia Huntington's The Radiant, what is most tragic can, and often does, become beautiful. "What/ is memory? Who stays to mourn?/ It seems we feel so much/ and then we die. The marsh hawk/ veers over the grass, listening." Poems about Multiple Sclerosis and domestic turmoil are never drowned in the rhetoric of complaint, but seized by language that is intense yet seeks the equilibrium of its own level: "His loneliness is cold water. that...