Ada Limon's voice is sweeping, addictive, a melancholic joy to behold. I fell in love with these poems and read them over and over again until they became like another limb on my body. They are powerful and sad and collect themselves into a kind of feminist manifesto for the poetically-minded. This book makes magic. (My favorite poem is on page 20) (Bring tissues)
"What the heart wants?
The heart wants her horses back."
— From Claire
Bright Dead Things
examines the chaos that is life, the dangerous thrill of living in a world you know you have to leave one day, and the search to find something that is ultimately "disorderly, and marvelous, and ours."
A book of bravado and introspection, of 21st century feminist swagger and harrowing terror and loss, this fourth collection considers how we build our identities out of place and human contact--tracing in intimate detail the various ways the speaker's sense of self both shifts and perseveres as she moves from New York City to rural Kentucky, loses a dear parent, ages past the capriciousness of youth, and falls in love. Limon has often been a poet who wears her heart on her sleeve, but in these extraordinary poems that heart becomes a "huge beating genius machine" striving to embrace and understand the fullness of the present moment. "I am beautiful. I am full of love. I am dying," the poet writes. Building on the legacies of forebears such as Frank O'Hara, Sharon Olds, and Mark Doty, Limon's work is consistently generous and accessible--though every observed moment feels complexly thought, felt, and lived.