| Description |
71 pages ; 21 cm |
| Note |
Poems. |
| Contents |
Because the body ... -- So this is what it comes down to ... -- With a little quick shudder ... -- Coming on the burnt-out house ... -- As if on cue, the heron ... -- Now the buried stones ... -- Soon enough, of course ... -- When that great conflagration ... -- You wonder what'll come through ... -- Off the skin of water ... -- From time to time, walking ... -- When my daughter begins ... -- Bent over his time-polished pitchfork ... -- While you're gazing ... -- When I saw the deer's ... -- Skelped, ice-bladed ... -- When I see the quick ... -- After his lovers run wild ... -- Back they sputter ... -- It must be a particular kind ... -- Did he imagine it ... -- Quick now, it's as if ... -- Because in dreams ... -- After I came across the cluster ... -- Insomnia, you say ... -- Inside this piebald ... -- See what the dust ... -- Although snow has wrapped ... -- Hunkered in itself ... -- To gauge the scatter ... -- I'm trying to get one line ... -- Such solidity these stones ... -- What happens when a body ... -- Light as a feather ... -- What the sea does ... -- No matter, go on ... -- Blood-red, impeccable ... -- By leaving always ... -- When the small bulking rock ... -- Mud-stockinged, stuck ... -- summer of blackened slats ... -- Casual, prodigal ... -- Rained in all day ... -- From the angel of weddings ... -- I watch a father ... -- Like a drunk sergeant ... -- When a heron ... -- Working all day ... -- Rasp-throated, the choir ... -- You might have imagined ... -- Touch-me-not wherever I look ... -- Because I'm seeing it ... -- Even under the rain ... -- hare that takes it time ... -- morning washed to gleaming ... -- While I'm, hanging out ... -- So I keep saving ... -- What disappears when I say ... -- Deep as it might be ... -- Only the shaking daisy-crowns ... |
|
Good to draw the rake ... -- When we stood on ... -- Whisper of wind ... -- Between the river lurgy ... -- Like sweet bells jangled ... -- All his life, we're told ... |
| Summary |
"The poems in Eamon Grennan's The Quick of It - each one without title and compacted into ten taut lines - are rendered with detail and reverence for the everyday elements of weather, landscape, family, art, questions. Grennan's poems are persistent, amplified acts of attention, proving with every detail that we are our best selves when we are most alert."--BOOK JACKET. |
| Subject |
English poetry -- Irish authors.
|
|
English poetry -- Irish authors.
(OCoLC)fst00912309
|
| Other Form: |
Online version: Grennan, Eamon, 1941- Quick of it. Saint Paul, Minn. : Graywolf Press, 2005 (OCoLC)647130573 |
| ISBN |
155597418X (pbk.) |
|
9781555974183 (pbk.) |
|
