By Ross Gay
Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude is a sustained meditation on that which works away—loved ones, the seasons, the earth as we all know it—that attempts to discover solace within the tactics of the backyard and the orchard. that's, it is a ebook that experiences the knowledge of the backyard and orchard, these areas the place all—death, sorrow, loss—is switched over into what may well, with persistence, nourish us.
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The gasoline line is leaking, the poultry is long past from the
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Benny ultimately bought off the stuff and Betty now has a job
as a waitress; and
the chimney sweep was once rather gentle as he
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I walked miles in the course of the urban and recognized
not anything as an incredible claw ate at my
abdominal whereas the interior of my head felt
ethereal as though i used to be approximately to go
it's now not loads that not anything means
something yet extra that it retains meaning
there's no liberate, simply professionals and self-
appointed gods and hucksters.
the extra humans say, the fewer there's to say.
even the simplest books are dry sawdust.
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Extra info for Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
33 ANGELA ADÓN1CA H o y me he tendido ju n to a una jo ven pura com o a la orilla de un océano blanco, com o en el cen tro de una ardiente estrella de len to espacio. D e su mirada largamente verde la luz caía como un agua seca, en transparentes y profundos círculos de fresca fuerza. Su pecho como un fuego de dos llamas ardía en dos regiones levantado, y en doble río llegaba a sus pies grandes y claros. U n clima de oro maduraba apenas las diurnas longitudes de su cuerpo llenándolo de frutas extendidas y oculto fuego.
The furniture travels filled w ith his silent being like little ships inside the oíd ship, laden w ith his vague and evanescent being: the wardrobes, the green covers o f the tables, the color o f the curtains and of the floor, everything has suffered the slow emptiness of his hands, and his breath has worn things out. H e glides and slides, descends, transparent, air within the coid air that courses through the ship, w ith hidden hands he leans above the railings w atching the bitter sea as it flees behind the ship.
Sucede que me canso de ser hombre. Sin embargo sería delicioso asustar a un notario con un lirio cortado o dar muerte a una monja con un golpe de oreja. Sería bello ir por las calles con un cu ch illo verde y dando gritos hasta m orir de fr ío . N o quiero seguir siendo raíz en las tinieblas, vacilante, extendido, tiritando de sueño, hacia abajo, en las tripas mojadas de la tierra, absorbiendo y pensando, comiendo cada día. N o quiero para mi tantas desgracias, N o quiero continuar de raíz y de tumba, de subterráneo solo, de bodega con muertos, aterido, muriéndome de pena.