"THE VIOLENT SWIRL AND JOY OF LIFE'S INCESSANT MOSH PIT"- This is how Rachel McKibbens describes Joanna Hoffman's poetry, and her debut collection, RUNNING FOR TRAP DOORS, lives up to the description. In these poems, Hoffman navigates family dynamics, lesbian bars, religion, emoticons, and inner demons, learning ultimately to out of her own way. Proudly published by Siblin"THE VIOLENT SWIRL AND JOY OF LIFE'S INCESSANT MOSH PIT"- This is how Rachel McKibbens describes Joanna Hoffman's poetry, and her debut collection, RUNNING FOR TRAP DOORS, lives up to the description. In these poems, Hoffman navigates family dynamics, lesbian bars, religion, emoticons, and inner demons, learning ultimately to out of her own way. Proudly published by Sibling Rivalry Press....
|Title||:||Running for Trap Doors|
|Number of Pages||:||86 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Running for Trap Doors Reviews
Ladies and Gentlemen, Joanna Hoffman!Coming across first books of collections of poetry by poets already respected by peers but not well known to the reading public is a pleasure, and providing those moments of discovery seems to be high on the list of Sibling Rivalry Press. This is their latest exposure to poetry lovers of fresh new talent Joanna Hartman, a Brooklynite with a lot to say and the perfect way of saying it.In an interview she was quoted as saying, `In the past few years, I've confronted some of the ugly truths standing in the way of my happiness--namely relationship patterns, mental health issues, and a lot of escapism. For years, I tried to distract myself from myself by focusing on any shiny object or person I could find. Once I was forced to stop doing that, I found that the process of actually allowing myself to be happy meant a whole lot of digging. This book holds a lot of what I unearthed. This book features lesbian bars, scorpions, Chinese food, waitresses, Moses, and this emotion :/.'The aspect of Hoffman's poetry that this reader finds so invigorating is the directness of the style, the feeling being that each poem was meant for a conversation with each particular reader. Not that there are absent major issues and topics for thought - there are in every poem - but her style is so immediate that the poignancy of the poems comes through loud and clear in a very personal manner.WHY I HAD TO LEAVE THE PARTY EARLYI don't fit in here. These girls can smell the TV dinneron me, the metro cardand the borrowed shoes. These girls smilelike checks ripped form the book.How the gleam makes everythingcome unhinged. Even their eyebrowshave bling. Even their issues sparkle.`Yesterday, we flew to Paris for lunch'`Occupy Wall Street is probably the only occupationthese people ever have.'I have Target breath. I bought my fingersat McDonalds. I sold my sex drivefor pot. I sold my cocainefor laundry detergent.`You're a poet? Do you get health insurance?'Last night, I ate a bowlof late fees. They tastedlike home.BECAUSE I WANT YOU AND I THINK YOU WANT ME TOO BUT WE LIVE FAR APART AND YOU'RE REALLY BAD AT TEXT MESSAGESWhen the phone vibrates and you name appears, I imagine the technology as a shoebox diorama. Back to back in the cardboard room, your finger presses send, and I flail for the phone as if it were the shoulder of a child running into traffic. When I read your message, followed by the wink-face emoticon, I grin stupidly, gazing admiringly at this little black rectangle. The emoticon is your mannequin, a shivering mirage of a proxy. I want to sit down, Barbara Walters-style, and ask, `When you said wink face, did you also mean smile-face? What about kiss-face?' I am almost 30, and the most exciting part of my morning is receiving a wink-face text from a girl across the country. How about this: meet me in the land where emoticons go to die. It could be a coffee shop in Philly. When I tell you I want to know what's happening here, you say, `Well, I don't know.' We watch each other in silence, your eyes raking up my cheek. I untuck the breath form underneath your tongue. The waitress asks if we're ready to order, and I say, `No.' I reach under the table and hold your hand, as if it were a letter I wrote with mine.Joanna Hoffman is immersed in now and how now affects everything that makes life take on meaning - on not. She challenges us with her own musings and leaves us with the feeling we have just peaked under a page and found a new artist who counts. Grady Harp
Beautifully written poems with metaphors that are enriching.
Breathtaking. Joanna has the power in a phrase to describe something with the weight of entire history, to devastate, or to make the reader laugh out loud. Highly Recommended