Poetry. These fourteen poems, ranging from Intellectual Compost Four (beginning is a minor danger) to No Music (bones lie across the country/covered in rare mixed leaves/unable to keep them//to choose the surest gain), are spare, delicate, unerringly thoughtful. Tom Raworth, word comet streaking across the night sky of our market-driveling-cruel-funny culture: This book illuminates with its own black light -- 'moving explosion ... shadows of pure colour ... blank cartoons nerves of speed/ dissolving scars ...' As always, Raworth's poetry is full of humor and rage and love and utmost vocal precision -- Joan Retallack.
Tom Raworth was born and grew up in London. During the 1970s he traveled and worked in the United states and Mexico, returning to England in 1977 to be Resident Poet at King's College, Cambridge, in which city he lived for many years. Since 1966 he has published more than 40 books and pamphlets of poetry, prose and translations, in several countries. His graphic work has been shown in France, Italy, and the United States, and he has collaborated and performed with musicians (Steve Lacy, Joëlle Léandre, Steve Nelson-Raney, Esther Roth, Nino Locatelli), painters (Giovanni D'Agostino, Micaëla Henich), and other poets (Franco Beltrametti, Corrado Costa, Dario Villa). In 1991 he was invited to teach at the University of Cape Town: the first European writer to visit there for thirty years. Raworth now lives in Hove, East Sussex.Author City: East Sussex UNK