Paul Hostovskys Comments
The first thing that occurs to me to say about these poems is that I guess
Ive been into one-word titles lately.
Woo was
written after reading Ana Blandianas beautiful love
poem, Magic
Spell of Rain.
Torso is
playing with itself, playing with its own shape, playing with lust but also
praising
the beauty of the human form.
Travelogue is
another poem about hands. I have this thing about hands. Maybe it comes from
being a sign language interpreter. Or maybe me
being a sign language interpreter came from this thing I have about hands.
Happiness actually started out as a happy birthday poem for a friend,
but ended up as a kind of happy divorce poem for, well, myself.
Evil,
which sort of pulls together all of the above—love in the hands of signing
primates, so to speak—Ill let speak for itself. Except
to say that I carried around the first line in my head for a long time before
coming up with the body of the poem to attach it to.
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