![]() I've enjoyed throughout the whole book with its contented piece of words and sparkling of emotions in almost all phrases. However, some phrases shows the real depth of the poetry and respective theme. The Thanks for Netgalley and respective publisher. Few Great Lines- * ""in the fog of forgetfulness they forgot fullness of fog"" * "The light isn t only lit. Some poems were extremely compelling, I had lost completely though they had shown my own emotions of past. Thanks for Netgalley and respective publisher. I felt it was a really promising collection and I think that Giannelli can write even better poetry honestly, I would totally read future poetry from him. There were some very clever lines also and I really enjoyed the emphasis on imagery of nature, nature always seems to draw out much more visceral reactions in me. The rhythm of words in poetry adds a lot to the feeling behind it for me as well. The cadence of the words, at least as I read them in my head, was also something I enjoyed very much. There was a lot of amazing imagery in the poems which is something I really enjoy in poetry because imagery can capture a feeling and create a certain tone really well, much more than explicitly trying to describe an experience. ![]() The cadence of the words, at least I'm not quite sure how to review poetry because it's such a personal thing, especially for me the experience is much more emotional so I'm not really sure how to put into word what it was that I enjoyed about this collection of poetry. ![]() I'm not quite sure how to review poetry because it's such a personal thing, especially for me the experience is much more emotional so I'm not really sure how to put into word what it was that I enjoyed about this collection of poetry. From its initial turbulence to its final surprising solace, this debut collection mesmerizes. Ultimately, among lofting waves, collapsing hands, and darkening skies, words themselves-a stutterer's maneuvers through speech, a deceased grandfather’s use of punctuation-become forms of consolation. Through a series of self-portraits, elegies, and Eros-tinged meditations, this hovering never subsides but offers, among the fragments, momentary constellations: “moths all swarming the / same light bulb.”įrom the difficulties of stuttering to teetering attempts at love, from struggling to order a hamburger to tracing the deckled edge of a hydrangea, these poems tumble and hum, revealing a hinge between word and world. In these visually porous poems, boundaries waver and reconfigure along the rumbling shoreline of Rockaway or during the intermediary hours that an insomniac undergoes between darkness and dawn. In these visually porous poems, boundaries waver and reconfigure along the rumbling shoreline of Rockaway or during the intermediary hours that Rain intermits, bus windows steam up, loved ones suffer from dementia-in the constantly shifting, metaphoric world of Tremulous Hinge, figures struggle to remain standing and speaking against forces of gravity, time, and language. Rain intermits, bus windows steam up, loved ones suffer from dementia-in the constantly shifting, metaphoric world of Tremulous Hinge, figures struggle to remain standing and speaking against forces of gravity, time, and language.
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