Karen Finneyfrock is releasing a new book entitled “Ceremony for the Choking Ghost”. And this a stellar collection of poetry is going green with Eco-Libris!
This book is published by Write Bloody Publishing, which is collaborating with Eco-Libris to plant trees for the books it publishes. Last September we worked with Write Bloody Publishing to plant a tree for every printed copy of the LAST TIME as WE ARE by Taylor Mali, and now a tree will be planted for every printed copy of “Ceremony for the Choking Ghost”!
After losing her sister to heart failure, Karen Finneyfrock was unable to write poems for three years. Her voice came back, whispering at first and then screaming. “Ceremony for the Choking Ghost” contains the sound of that voice returning, bringing poems about grief and its effect on the body, the body politic, memory, and, of course, poems about love. Half poetry, half exorcism, her book calls to all of our ghosts.
Here's a Sample Poem from “Ceremony for the Choking Ghost” (from Writebloody Publishing's website):
WHAT LOT’S WIFE WOULD HAVE SAID
(IF SHE WASN’T A PILLAR OF SALT)
Do you remember when we met
in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless,
and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing
you, when we were young, and blushed with youth
like bruised fruit. Did we care then
what our neighbors did
in the dark?
When our first daughter was born
on the River Jordan, when our second
cracked her pink head from my body
like a promise, did we worry
what our friends might be
doing with their tongues?
What new crevices they found
to lick love into or strange flesh
to push pleasure from, when we
called them Sodomites then,
all we meant by it
was neighbor.
When the angels told us to run
from the city, I went with you,
but even the angels knew
that women always look back.
Let me describe for you, Lot,
what your city looked like burning
since you never turned around to see it.
Sulfur ran its sticky fingers over the skin
of our countrymen. It smelled like burning hair
and rancid eggs. I watched as our friends pulled
chunks of brimstone from their faces. Is any form
of loving this indecent?
Cover your eyes tight,
husband, until you see stars, convince
yourself you are looking at Heaven.
Because any man weak enough to hide his eyes while his neighbors
are punished for the way they love deserves a vengeful god.
I would say these things to you now, Lot,
but an ocean has dried itself on my tongue.
So instead I will stand here, while my body blows itself
grain by grain back over the Land of Canaan.
I will stand here
and I will watch you
run.
The book is available at Writebloody Publishing's store - http://writebloody.com/store/index.html
Yours,
Raz @ Eco-Libris
