Questions About Angels (Pitt Poetry Series)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Billy Collins has emerged as the most beloved American poet since Robert Frost, garnering critical acclaim and broad popular appeal. Annie Proulx admits, "I have never before felt possessive about a poet, but I am fiercely glad that Billy Collins is ours."
This special, limited edition celebrates Billy Collins's years as U.S. Poet Laureate. Questions About Angels--one of the books that helped establish and secure his reputation and popularity during the 1990s--is remarkable for its wry, inquisitive voice and its sheer imaginative range. Edward Hirsch selected this classic book for the National Poetry Series, and each of Collins's poems-from his meditation on forgetfulness to his musings on the behavior of angels-is an exploration of imaginative possibilities. Whether reading him for the first time or the fiftieth, this collector's edition is a must-have for anyone interested in the poet the New York Times calls simply "the real thing."
or sit on high bare cliffs looking like early arrivals at a party the earth is about to throw now that the dinosaurs have finally cleared the room. They have yet to discover fire, much less invent the wheel, so they wander a world mostly dark and motionless wondering what to do with their wisdom like young girls wonder what to do with their hair. Once in a while someone will make a pronouncement about the movement of the stars, the density of silence, or the strange behavior of water in
the darkened lawn and trade all this in for a new swarm of thoughts. The rain is lighter now, atomized and soft upon your face. It makes you stop and listen to Bud Powell pounding in the silence and feel the old embrace of earth and sky. The Man in the Moon He used to frighten me in the nights of childhood, the wide adult face, enormous, stern, aloft. I could not imagine such loneliness, such coldness. But tonight as I drive home over these hilly roads I see him sinking behind stands of
the earth as electrically as the sudden touch of a stranger. I will wonder how many thousands of days it would take the two of us to walk to the moon. Instructions to the Artist I wish my head to appear perfectly round and since the canvas should be of epic dimensions, please trace the circle with a dinner plate rather than a button or a dime. My face should be painted with an ant-like sense of detail; pretend you are executing a street map of Rome and that all the citizens can lift
apocalypse expressions on their faces. I realize on the way up the beanstalk apologizing over the phone was a bad idea. A letter provides a more reflective means of saying hard things, expressing true feelings. If there is pen and paper in his kingdom, I plan to write her a long vivid one communicating my ardor, but also describing the castle floating in high clouds, the goose, the talking musical instruments, and the echo of his enormous shoes. In fact, to convince her of my
neon hotel sign illuminating your notorious face, your hat hanging on the rack where you tossed it on the way in. Pie Man I am carrying my homemade pies down a cobblestone road that winds through a hamlet, balancing one pie on each palm, traversing a page of fair watercolors and ink lines, a white baker's hat collapsed on my head, a white apron waving over my river blue pants. Wives call to me from the frames of their cottage windows. Children skip alongside me, their sunny faces