By Billy Collins
NEW YORK occasions BESTSELLER
“Billy Collins places the ‘fun’ again in ‘profundity.’ ”—Alice Fulton
From the two-term Poet Laureate of the U.S. Billy Collins comes his first compilation of latest and chosen poems in twelve years. Aimless Love combines greater than fifty new poems with choices from 4 past books—Nine Horses, the difficulty with Poetry, Ballistics, and Horoscopes for the lifeless. Collins’s unmistakable voice, which brings jointly simple speech with creative shock, is obviously heard on each web page, reminding us how he has controlled to complement the tapestry of up to date poetry and tremendously extend its viewers. His paintings is featured in best literary magazines reminiscent of The New Yorker, Poetry, and The Atlantic, and he sells out interpreting venues all around the kingdom. showing on a regular basis in The most sensible American Poetry sequence, his poems attract readers and dwell audiences in all places and feature been translated into greater than a dozen languages. by way of turns playful, ironic, and severe, Collins’s poetry captures the nuances of lifestyle whereas prime the reader into zones of encouraged ask yourself. within the poet’s personal phrases, he hopes that his poems “begin in Kansas and result in Oz.” bearing on the topics of affection, loss, pleasure, and poetry itself, those poems show off the simplest paintings of this “poet of plenitude, irony, and Augustan grace” (The New Yorker).
pass, little book,
out of this condo and into the world,
carriage made up of paper rolling towards town
bearing a unmarried passenger
past the achieve of this jittery pen
and much from the table and the nosy gooseneck lamp.
it's time to decamp,
wear a jacket and enterprise outside,
time to be appeared by means of different eyes,
guaranteed to be held in overseas hands.
So off you move, babies of the brain,
with a wave and a few bits of fatherly advice:
remain out as overdue as you like,
don’t trouble to name or write,
and consult as many strangers as you can.
Praise for Aimless Love
“[Billy Collins] is in a position, with necessary few phrases, to make me cry. Or snigger out loud. he's a awesome artist. To have such strength in such an abbreviated shape is deeply inspiring.”—J.J. Abrams, The manhattan instances publication Review
“Layered, subtly witty poems that any one can comprehend and appreciate—even those that don’t regularly like poetry . . . [Collins] is wry, stunning, and easily communicates the techniques many readers want that they had idea or stated themselves. . . . The Collins in those pages is particular, evocative, and is familiar with the way to make the style clean and relevant.”—The Christian technological know-how Monitor
“Collins’s new poems comprise every thing you’ve come to anticipate from a Billy Collins poem. They stand solidly on even floor, chiseled and unbreakable. Their phraseology is classy, the humor is alive, and the speaker keeps to walk at his personal velocity during the plainness of yank life.”—The day-by-day Beast
“America’s favourite poet.”—The Wall highway Journal
“[Billy Collins’s] poetry provides easy observations, which create a shared adventure among [him] and his readers, whereas additional revealing how he's taking life’s daily humdrum studies and makes them bright. whereas Collins’s past collections have already demonstrated his brilliance and endurance as a poet, he maintains to bare an ever-growing maturity.”—The instances Leader
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Extra info for Aimless Love: New and Selected Poems
Air leaves things, the neighborhood exhales. Signs read “Cathedral Pines,” as if vision could be installed into trees, trees grow more treelike. As if a forest would pine into houses, the sky unbutton, all music and Mary. Some things you can count on: Sirens. Speed. Hovering faces. The shrunken woman in the ambulance. The world dovetails into her: Mother of my days, the street beds down in fog. The white accelerating from white ﬂowers — the pockets of air, pockets of a woman I’ll never know. Whatever it is that never comes keeps coming: Cicadas.
What does he remember? My two hands ﬂoating away like oak boards he would nail into something useful. A shelf for shells, a ship to ﬁnd holes in and mend until the next leak springs. He won’t look up from his canned soup. Talk doesn’t get things done, so he must be talking, stealthful and stealing, saying what I would say if I had a say. [ 33 ] Sugaring-Off Time In the Currier & Ives of my mind, it’s sugaring-off time, the weather tastes of you. I remember maples caving in Park Street. The house going up, the house coming down.
19 ] city upon a hill I want to hear what you hear, scattered in voices you call by my name, unassembled in throats of the air. Gulls buckle in a gust. Sirens ﬁnd the ear in a parking lot, dissipate into the Sound . . The light on the water, a wavering city held by invisible lines. A blur of green, our ﬁrst summer shifted in the window. Clams pissed their translucent architectures — sun-wrenched into the air . . The green wall of trees kaleidoscopes into the Sound even now, gazing into my eyes.