Dream Latitudes

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I am drawing a map of distances. The swimmer. The sleeper.The dreamer. Another afternoon traipsing the incomprehensiblecorridors of the brain. Nothing uttered.Alia Kobuszko's poetr y is as immediate as it is mysterious. She is unafraid of detonating form or trusting a quiet phrase, and saturates these poems with surreal and sensuous aspects. In this enchanting and piercing debut, strange horses gallop - embodying metamorphic freedom and power.The speaker becomes the rider, the horse itself and even the field, enacting how the poet inhabits and unanchors their subject so that 'girl and horse / stand still- / field runs through them.' Show more