Kimberly Lyons
Photothérapique
Jointly published with Katalanché Press
$7.50 ppd. (sold out)
|
Kimberly Lyons
Photothérapique Jointly published with Katalanché Press $7.50 ppd. (sold out) | ||||||
BIO:
Kim Lyons is the author of Abracadabra (Granary Books) and Saline (Instance Press) as well as numerous chapbooks. She lives in Brooklyn where she works as a psychiatric social worker. EXCERPT from "In Madras": In Madras, a storm of notes like ants or thick dust subtracts from the body in which the sheen of a gluey blue bubble languidly attached to a stem of white simultaneously inflates and sags, as does a thrown out purple sofa in the rain next to a red tin for Chinese cookies & yellow rubber sandals. The mighty peony, degraded, endures as a link to be grasped like the smell of the pipe’s exhalation at a birthday party not forgotten exactly—just less attended to in the clamor of oils and collision of shadows on Maxwell Street. The panic of the bull, oily and black as time focused on the red whirl of the future’s cascade that collapses in the private gauze of tears swimming across the gaze in an afternoon’s sandstorm light. REVIEWS: Review reprinted from The Brooklyn Rail, July, 2008 by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright: Walking around in Kimberly Lyons’s poems, one feels like Eugene Atget, who Berenice Abbot called "a Balzac of the camera." You capture the forward moment and the look back at each stage. You know where you are and what time it is—the stuff in between is lyric and metaphoric: "4pm… / I look to the tunnels/ the scuffs, the sparkle of messed up/ tinsel, the broken gold star/ found on Henry Street…" The book’s title, Photothérapique, implies that visual cataloging is a way of seeing what you’re doing and why. "Black Swallowtail" evokes a silken embroidery of the city, "a scarf all the way to Delancey Street/ to the Village, to Queens." Always open to her surroundings, Lyons weaves in details to fashion a texture where the seams happily show. Green, white, blue, orange—colors jack up the poem. Two boys pass by: "Charisma says one…and boots of asskicking." Another poem, "No More Samovars," is a fabulous list of found objects. It’s laden with cabinets, pamphlets, books, and "Many kittenish, black, fluffy sweaters/ all size 8." Turning her attention inward, the author strikes a tender note. After reading Breton and Soupault, she acknowledges "a feeling for the inwardness…" and a longing for "Convergence." "On a bicycle/ after the dentist," vulnerable and independent, Lyons magnifies the lens." LINK to review at Jack Kimball's blog LINKS: LINK to Katalanché Press website |