By Jared Schickling
Poetry. "The poems of Jared Schickling's AURORA are exceptional through their parenthetical titles, titles which function interludes as in '(war on the street) / (or, observe To Self)' or as digressions, suggesting that the poem services past or with no its body, this body of the identify being ancillary instead of constitutive. during this method, the components may be learn as an extended poem, cut up into 3 elements and those 'titles,' strains of the poem. there's a bird's-eye cohesiveness to the booklet in that even the visceral moments of the lyric 'I' or the attentiveness to others and the banality of the standard are located on this planet. The name indicates one of those cosmic order. AURORA is the sunrise or the Roman goddess of the sunrise, a figurative gesture at conserving time. but, "aurora" is additionally learn scientifically because the luminous phenomenon of emissions of sunshine excited about the planet's magnetic box. technology and poetry, cosmic order and the quotidian undergo a resemblance to new technological know-how; Schickling greets this type of resemblance now not by way of expounding on order or rules of order"--J'Lyn Chapman.
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Family quotas are fifty years old at least lately; but a pile of sand came yesterday. It was found in some chocolate of questionable authenticity. No return address. 50 (back roads) in the afternoon sun, the still space of a day. down weedy slopes of ditches the hard edges of gray back roads. drifts. mosquitoes. behind the wheel she dozed mumbling waking in the morning was no trouble no trouble at all. mosquitoes. the naked side of her body cooled, one night in June against the wall when the room was still empty, on the peeling sill she lay her chin.
We knew there’s bagged big fish from the gorge so we copped poles and bobber sinker and line. frozen worms, a special lure today yellowy dangles it nine, barbed later it ruined a sweater. it came with trilingual praise for instruction there was a path to the water’s edge where we squat sipping coffee from colored foam cups– it’s Memorial Day and we’re all having fun. reading smoking, a colored foam cup, learning, or wishing maybe to sing, of songs we hear, in other words plagiary a curious fact that offers; what clues gather motion sea of light in space it’s May and blue with a path to the water’s edge where the river trees move a passing warm breeze.
Many things awoke to dreams: A vote was taken. Mars or freedom, they’ll do. The lizard I bought died, but it got me laid first. Where Dragon rolls, the sky was a reef at night the Milky Way. It was all so fresh, when Magda needed her second leash. – Finally the air goes elastic, with hotdogs splitting. With horseshoes and sports. Up north they’ve seven to nine kinds of snow. We’ve a station up there using advanced refrigeration. Diaries opened as Chuck was on the way through submarines he smuggled a picnic basket.