Pink
Poems
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- $11.99
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
A sharp, visceral new collection of poetry that touches on art, history, sex, bodies, language, and the color pink
The sack of Rome,
The siege of Florence.
The lights twinkle pink in Fiesole.
Pink furls, pink buds.
Wet pink veiny hearts in spring.
Pink can mean so many things.
Sylvie Baumgartel’s Pink moves from the shadow of the Ponte Vecchio to a mission church in Santa Fe, from Daily Mail reports to a photograph of a girl from Tierra del Fuego, from a grandmother’s advice (“Don’t go to Smith and don’t get fat”) to legs wrapped around “a man who calls me cake.”
Baumgartel, a poet of fierce, intimate, wry language, delivers a second collection about art, history, violence, bodies, fear, pain, reckoning, and transcendence. The poems travel back to the historical, linguistic, and emotional sources of things while surging forward with a stirring momentum, creating a whirlwind of birth and destruction.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In the confident second collection from Baumgartel (Song of Songs), she kindles the imagination in unadorned, self-contained poems that explore femininity, love, sexuality, and violence through the lens of art and history. One of the poet's strengths is her ability to approach grisly subjects without hesitation or theatrical indulgence. She unflinchingly recounts a group of priests who raped deaf boys, describes the childhood trauma of watching another child drown, and conjures the scene of a psychotic teacher French-kissing his prepubescent student in a school yard. Baum-gartel's matter-of-fact tone suggests the grim recognition of the world's ugliness, but also highlights her sardonic zest, such as when she portrays a geriatric mother's unwitting transformation into an undesirable turtle that sneaks chocolate "from no one who cares." Elsewhere, her pithy insights are striking in their simplicity: "Pink is manners &/ The color of least/ Resistance./ Studies show that pink/ Calms the male &/ Excites the female./ In color theory,/ Pink means unconditional love." Occasionally, the writing can feel one-note, lacking in formal and lyrical variety. Nevertheless, Baumgartel offers a kinetic and transgressive testament to an age of violence, strangeness, and bewilderment.
