“Ah, it’s the feral/that interests me […]” Seiferle writes in “On the Island of Bones.” These are poems about desire, paradise, what is wild and cannot be tamed. Eroticism in red raspberries, in clams, in snapdragons. I find the poems that tell everyday stories to be the most solid, like “Eye Center” or “The Butterfly Effect”: vivid flashes of life.
Wild Tongue by Rebecca SeiferleCopper Canyon Press, 2007
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