La parola da casa, Serena Piccoli

i just finished reading eileen tabios' I Take Thee, English, for My Beloved. the work is massive, containing poetry, criticism, theory, drama, and other forms; moreover, tabios' language is at times stunning, sensual, violent, accusatory, and profound. her voice in my ear is like a mix of whitman and levertov. as with whitman in calamus, i want to jump in and join him, but all the while i hear the absense of love that levertov captures in works like the evening train. more than with typical poetry books, i feel that in reading this text i have encountered an alternate way of life, i.e. tabios creates a world in which poetry matters or does not matter in that it is a part of life.

(eileen, if you ever need 10 poets in the midwest for a stage, let me know, for we are not as squeamish as poets on the coasts.)