“I myself remember / back in the day when great men / were half-gods and ate their sons. We / ourselves still don’t matter much. / The important new democratization / turns out to mean half-goddesses / now get to eat kids too.”
Philip Metres’s newest collection of poetry speaks as eloquently as ever against empire—but he grounds the writing in this book in his own family’s story and history.
“There are no accidents. / Anaximander says all things in heaven and earth / as they are born and perish / pay each other reckoning and recompense / for trespass into being.”
“The nannies, off to their daily grind, scramble / into the back of the Volvo and are carted off / to some neighbor’s patch of scotch broom / and blackberries.”
