My Wicked Wicked Ways
Hailed as "not only a gifted writer, but an absolutely essential one" (The New York Times Book Review), Sandra Cisneros has firmly established herself as an author of electrifying talent. Here are verses, comic and sad, radiantly pure and plainspoken, that reveal why her stories have been praised for their precision and musicality of language.\ \ Hailed as "not only a gifted writer, but an absolutely essential one" (The New York Times Book Review), Sandra Cisneros has...
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Hailed as "not only a gifted writer, but an absolutely essential one" (The New York Times Book Review), Sandra Cisneros has firmly established herself as an author of electrifying talent. Here are verses, comic and sad, radiantly pure and plainspoken, that reveal why her stories have been praised for their precision and musicality of language.Publishers WeeklyThis collection reveals the same affinity for distilled phrasing and surprise, both in language and dramatic development, found in Cisneros's volumes of short stories, Woman Hollering Creek and The House on Mango Street . For a glimpse of it, see the poem ``Josie Bliss'': ``a tropical dream / of Wednesdays / a bitter sorrow / like the salt / between the breasts.'' Of the book's four parts, the first two immerse the reader in the Chicana homefront, including the poet's own place in it, presumably the San Antonio familiar from her prose work. The remaining two parts leave the barrio behind, as the author's world becomes more cosmopolitan and still more personal. Here Cisneros reflects on herself and her men, on how she treats them and they her. Although some poems in the last sections are excellent--``No Mercy,'' with its air of a prosecutor's brief, is splendid--as a love poet, Cisneros attitudinizes too much and uses her tight style more to ration her candor than to impel images. Even so, a disconcerting degree of sentimentality somehow gets through (``I forget the reasons, but I loved you once, / remember?''), along with some enervated deadpan humor: ``I've learned two things. / To let go / clean as kite string. / And to never wash a man's clothes. / These are my rules.'' (Dec.)
Velorio3Sir James South Side5South Sangamon6Abuelito Who7Arturo Burro8Mexican Hat Dance9Good Hotdogs10Muddy Kid Comes Home11I Told Susan Reyna12Twister Hits Houston14Curtains15Joe16Traficante18My Wicked Wicked Ways23Six Brothers25Mariela27Josie Bliss28I the Woman29Something Crazy31In a redneck bar down the street33Love Poem #134The blue dress35The Poet Reflects on Her Solitary Fate37His Story38Letter to Ilona from the South of France43Ladies, South of France - Vence45December 24th, Paris - Notre-Dame46Beautiful Man - France47Postcard to the Lace Man - The Old Market, Antibes48Letter to Jahn Franco - Venice49To Cesare, Goodbye52Ass53Trieste - Ciao to Italy55Peaches - Six in a Tin Bowl, Sarajevo56Hydra Night - House on Fire57Hydra Coming Down in Rain58Fishing Calamari by Moon60Moon in Hydra61One Last Poem for Richard62For a Southern Man64A woman cutting celery69Sensuality Plunging Barefoot Into Thorns71Valparaiso73I understand it as a kiss76For All Tuesday Travelers77No Mercy78The world without Rodrigo80Rodrigo Returns to the Land and Linen Celebrates81Beatrice82Rodrigo de Barro83Rodrigo in the Dark85The So-and-So's86Monsieur Mon Ami88Drought90By Way of Explanation92Ame, Amo, Amare94Men Asleep98New Year's Eve9914 de julio101Tantas Cosas Asustan, Tantas102
\ Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly\ This collection reveals the same affinity for distilled phrasing and surprise, both in language and dramatic development, found in Cisneros's volumes of short stories, Woman Hollering Creek and The House on Mango Street . For a glimpse of it, see the poem ``Josie Bliss'': ``a tropical dream / of Wednesdays / a bitter sorrow / like the salt / between the breasts.'' Of the book's four parts, the first two immerse the reader in the Chicana homefront, including the poet's own place in it, presumably the San Antonio familiar from her prose work. The remaining two parts leave the barrio behind, as the author's world becomes more cosmopolitan and still more personal. Here Cisneros reflects on herself and her men, on how she treats them and they her. Although some poems in the last sections are excellent--``No Mercy,'' with its air of a prosecutor's brief, is splendid--as a love poet, Cisneros attitudinizes too much and uses her tight style more to ration her candor than to impel images. Even so, a disconcerting degree of sentimentality somehow gets through (``I forget the reasons, but I loved you once, / remember?''), along with some enervated deadpan humor: ``I've learned two things. / To let go / clean as kite string. / And to never wash a man's clothes. / These are my rules.'' (Dec.)\ \
