Dear Apocalypse by K. A. HaysDear Apocalypse by K. A. Hays

Dear Apocalypse

byK. A. Hays

Paperback | February 2, 2009

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K. A. Hays’ debut collection opens with an invitation to the apocalypse, an act of American bravado that soon gives way to fear of disaster, dread of violence, and grief for the dead. As the book’s “lilies and fowls”—seedlings and swifts, thrushes and pitch pines—feed and grow, they become figures for human struggle. The speaker of these poems longs for God, for a mind that outlasts the body, and for a way to live with acceptance in a world that is chaotic and uncertain. Dear Apocalypse, the reader finds in the closing sections, does not dare the world to end so much as it asks it to stay, and comes “to love / this waking life,” even with its terrors, even in the dark.
K. A. HAYS is a native of southeast Pennsylvania. She read English Literature at Bucknell and Oxford Universities and earned an MFA in the Literary Arts at Brown. Her poetry has appeared in such magazines as Antioch Review, New Orleans Review, Northern Woodlands, and Southern Review, and was selected by Natasha Tretheway for inclusion ...
Title:Dear ApocalypseFormat:PaperbackDimensions:88 pages, 8.48 × 5.5 × 0.3 inPublished:February 2, 2009Publisher:Carnegie Mellon University PressLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0887484956

ISBN - 13:9780887484957

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Table of Contents

Dear Apocalypse

LETTERSLetter from the End of the World
Letter from the Afternoon
In the Garden
The Ice Festival

LABORSThe Way of All the Earth
That Death
The Snow Queen Speaks of April
After Loss
The Churchbells in Male Are Ringing, Possibly Ushering Out
The Labor of Waking

MIND But Then Again It Might Be Possible
I don't Believe the View from Here
It Is Easy Not to See the Mad
Imagine How Easy It Must Be for Weather
The Sea Clots Whitely after the Swell, Claws Sand
I Made My Soul a Hat
That Bellies and Drags
This Morning after Snow, the Body Scrapes Off

FOWLS AND LILIESOutside the Basilica di San Petronio
Some Pigeons Amble by the Tracks
Letter from Cinque Terre
So the Moths Come Slaloming out of Hollow Trees
Second Coming
This Must Be How the Monks Felt on Their Way
I'd Say God
Not Like Ghosts but Like the White Robes Worn

Editorial Reviews

"Exquisite, masterful poems filled with the last beauties and new horrors of a dying earth . . . Hays is a poet we cannot do without." - Katie Ford