paper • 74 pages • 14.95
ISBN-10:  1-884800-69-6

Siste Viator

Sarah Manguso

 

ASKING FOR MORE

I am not asking to suffer less.
I hope to be nearly crucified.
To live because I don’t want to.

That hope, that sweet agent—
My best work is its work.
The horse I ride into Hell is my best horse
And bears its name.
So, friends, drink your cocktails and wear your hats.
Thank you for leaving me this whole world to go mad in.

I am not asking for mercy. I am asking for more.
I don’t mind when no mercy comes
Or when it comes in the form of my mad self
Running at me. I am not asking for mercy.

Praise by Dave Eggers
Praise by Publishers Weekly

“This book is for those of us who want to read more poetry but are frequently stopped by its…what is it? Its chilly self-seriousness? Its unwillingness to hold our hand every so often, while cracking an easy joke? Either way, Sarah Manguso, like her spiritual siblings David Berman and Tony Hoagland, is a friendly kind of savior and guide. Her writing is gorgeous and cerebral (imagine Anne Carson) but she doesn’t skimp on the wit (imagine Anne Carson’s ne’er-do-well niece). Poetry-fearers, don’t back away from this beautiful book; these might be the pages that bring you back into the form.” —Dave Eggers

“The title’s Latin translates as ‘traveler, halt,’ a traditional opening for inscriptions on gravestones; Manguso’s enticing sophomore effort has both the gravity of epitaphs and enough oddity to halt readers in their tracks. Clearer and grimmer than her debut, The Captain Lands in Paradise, this book often uses aphoristic sentences in place of lines: ‘A good horse runs even at the shadow of the whip’; ‘The second-hardest thing I have to do is not be longing’s slave.’ Dating and flirtation, astronomical discoveries, the omnipresence of death, unanswerable queries (‘Which stories of farms are the ones that can save me?’)—all move within the speaker’s mind in a manner that the poems are designed to arrest. ‘A coin you dropped when you took your pants off is still on the floor,’ she declares in ‘Address to an Absent Lover.’ ‘Please come back and pick it up.’ That lover might be the reader or simply a romantic partner, or God: the essence and power of Manguso’s method lie in our not knowing which is which. (Mar.)” —From Publishers Weekly Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.