Hydra Medusa
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- $12.99
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- $12.99
Publisher Description
A book of poetry, dreams and speculative talks, collected from the psychic detritus of living in the US-Mexico borderlands.
Part coping mechanism, part magical act, Hydra Medusa was composed while Brandon Shimoda was working five jobs and raising a child—during bus commutes, before bed, at sunrise. Encountering the ghosts of Japanese American ancestors, friends, children and bodies of water, it asks: what is the desert but a site where people have died, are dying; are buried, unburied, memorialized, erased. Where they are trying, against and within the energy of it all, to contend with our inherited present—and to live.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
In ruminative and experimental poems, Yonsei poet Shimoda (The Desert) builds a dream landscape that gathers striking images and contends with some of today's most pressing issues. The collection opens with prose sections: "I had a dream last night that a rainbow was burning.// I had a dream last night that the war fit on the tip of a finger.// I had a dream last night that a scream did not need a hill to gather speed to reach the people.// I had a dream last night that a border wall was built." In "Operation Crossroads," he writes, "The shape of the explosion/ seen from above// answers a question/ that eludes// who are living it." Throughout, Shimoda interlaces atmospheric descriptions with the violence that threatens them. Other poems reflect on the inheritance of violence outside of the United States, as in "The Gallery," which considers the unfair treatment of Japanese artists "relegated to the cliffs/ while western artists were permitted to keep their heads" and remarks, "I was not allowed to speak/ about what I had seen/ Even though I could not remember// I was not allowed to remember." This politically and philosophically meditative outing is a timely and memorable exploration of history and place.
