The samples and blurb are at SalmonPoetry.com (I guess the link did not come through properly)
'
The url is http://www.salmonpoetry.com/details.php?ID=389&a=281
Thanks!
Millicent
-----Original Message-----
From: Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]>
To: POETRYETC <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Wed, Apr 6, 2016 5:09 am
Subject: Re: Book Review?
No blurb or samples on this post, Millicent, that I can see.
Bill
On Wednesday, 6 April 2016, Millicent Borges Accardi <
[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Greetings everyone--
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> I hope it is OK to post this announcement here? I've been in this group
> for well over 15 years, participating actively at times then sitting back
> and "lurking," as they say. It's been a little salvation for me, knowing
> the list is out there and that people still chat about poetry in a
> non-social media type of way. Truly have appreciated being included on this
> list.
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> My new book, Only More So was just published with Salmon Poetry Ireland,
> and, I have a few review copies I would love to send to those interested in
> reviewing the book (from Poetry Etc).
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> Thanks so much for considering my work. Pasted below are a little blurb
> and sample poems. email me your postal address if you would like a review
> copy [log in to unmask] <javascript:;> At the moment I have 2 copies
> available--
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> Thanks,
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> Millicent
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> Salmon Poetry
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> About this Book
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> Only More So is a collection of lyric poems. Sometimes a bridge in a sad
> song, other times an echo that threatens to develop then fades, the images
> blend, twist, and entangle one another: a marriage is a song, then it’s a
> body, and finally a boat blind in the sea listening for the fog horn. We
> find ourselves alone in the spaces where atrocity meets the marriage bed—in
> those silences that are chosen, those that are forced, those that must be,
> and those that kill. “In Prague” is as close to a pure definition of poetry
> we get, where memory is kinetic action, where language is recorded in the
> land itself, where the names of things tell us what they really are:
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> Take me where memory makes my legs move.
> Take me where moss holds language.
> Take me where we have a name for the things we do.
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> Carlo Matos
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> Author of The Secret Correspondence of Loon & Fiasco, It’s Best Not to
> Interrupt Her Experiments and a School for Fisherman
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> Millicent Borges Accardi was the recipient of fellowships from the
> National Endowment for the Arts (NEA), Fulbright, CantoMundo, Creative
> Capacity, the California Arts Council, Fundação Luso-Americana, and the
> Barbara Deming Foundation (Money for Women), Accardi has been in residence
> at Yaddo, Milkwood in Cesky Krumlov, Fundación Valparaíso in Spain; Jentel,
> and Vermont Studio Center. She holds degrees in English literature and
> writing from California State University, Long Beach (CSULB) and the
> University of Southern California (USC).
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> Read a sample from this book
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> Portrait of a Girl, 1942
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> Based on the Jan Lukas photograph of Vendulka Vogelova, taken a few hours
> before the young girl was transported to a concentration camp.
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> I am the mirror for one who speaks;
> these fresh gaps are wind in the linden trees,
> cotton flowers of life. A mirror is not much
> for all of us, but if we listen for reflection,
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> the clear twin face of a groan behind the looking
> glass, we hear the cat's hair sounds of all people
> grumbling in the same manner about the air
> the food the earth the sidewalk.
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> I am the mirror for all the world's silence,
> and the ones who slipped through without drawing
> blood, whose suicides number nothing next
> to vast doors too tall to reach heaven, locked
> forever, whose breaking takes generations,
> sometimes, dull copper paint on the back of a lake.
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> I am the mirror for one who is trembling
> like a child who has noticed too much, eyes
> hard olive pits. I think about how life
> cracks when the vanity glass overturns
> our hands. Sharp pints in bars. Uneven edges
> of ale. Crisp indignities of foam.
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> I am the mirror for all who choose
> not to speak. I crack
> in the dark. I shine in the snow.
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> Coupling
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> The woman thought she would be good,
> making sure he washed,
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> rescuing black stockings, wood pile
> scraps. Finding theatre tickets
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> and collecting parking stubs.
> She thought she would be good
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> at using his soap. Remembering
> not to wear perfume and waking
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> up to call home. In the hotel,
> hiding while the hot water ran,
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> her heart compact as plywood.
> She thought she would be good
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> at belonging. The bulk of her time
> a two-by-four dove-tailed into a corner,
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> getting the best he had to offer.
> She thought she had a talent for being aloof.
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> On him, she made few demands.
> When he was away, she imagined
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> his heart open, fearless
> hands holding a piece of wood steady
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> while a diamond-point blade cut through.
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> http://www.MillicentBorgesAccardi.com
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> @TopangaHippie on Twitter
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> Água mole em pedra dura tanto dá até que fura
>
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