The Second Sex
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A second collection from a poet of 'sheer joy and dizzy command' - The New York Times)
Upon its publication in 2012, Alien vs. Predator, the debut collection by Michael Robbins, became one of the hottest and most celebrated works of poetry in the country, winning acclaim for its startling freshness and originality, and leading critics to say that it was the most likely book in years to open up poetry to a new readership.
Robbins's poems are strange, wonderful, wild, and irrationally exuberant, mashing up high and low culture with 'a sky-blue originality of utterance' (The New York Times). The thirty-six new poems in The Second Sex carry over the music, attitude, hilarity, and vulgarity of Alien vs. Predator, while also working deeper autobiographical and political veins.
does not bother me. Turn those speakers up full blast, and all that. Nel mezzo nevermind—pace Foghat— what a loose ride, what a fast ride too. Remaster Tago Mago, add bonus tracks, reissue. Overnight The FedEx logo, feral, felling deer with its arrow, likes shooting monkeys in a barrel. It gets Lyme disease. The ironies! Arrows and the telltale Target logo rash I sing. The love of evil. The root of cash. My bluish and my human foot around the child soldier’s neck absolutely has to
saguaro. I must expel the Mexican. Warren Zevon, Levon Helm slip into a slippery elm— fall, gash, crash that gold- vermillion dollar bash. Mississippi trinity: fetus, flag, and F-150. The bee, a tiny mason, is expert in fruition. The honey-drip, the bee-loud buzz of Jimmy Page’s Gibson. You say that this is all there is: sweat and piss and blood and jizz. But I’m from wheat and dust and flat, and I was born to marvel at the Jayhawks in 2008. I don’t believe you: God is great.
oblige. Lesson one: metaphor, a kind of bridge. A blackbird can be looked at in a number of ways, including two. A man and a woman are the loneliest number that you’ll ever do. On Making Mixes for Girls Who Won’t Give Death Metal a Chance My reptile brain sheds its skin. On its belly it goes supernova. It got over getting over that assimilated Jew, Jehovah. My reptile brain chops off its tail to watch it grow right back. The family requests an autopsy. My brain drops horribly in a
pail. Like a bulwark breached for the very first time, dear brain, once more unto! There’s someone bleeding all over you. Down on all fours, brain. Brain take a face full of quills. You’re still in love with dark Satanic Hayley Mills. In olden days a glimpse of stocking would give me a lobotomy. The very thought of me! Out of the car, long hair, endlessly rocking. Reptile brains are wasted on the young. Butcher Holler Got an empty shoe box for Xmas. Every Xmas, same shoe box. The
is waiting for the beep. It is waiting for the right to change. Hello, I know you’re there, pick up. Sticky Fingers I practice Velcro mind, tar baby mind. I stick to my guns. I’m a major find. Stick to my loo, my darling. Stick to your own kind. Stately, plump Wayne Manor! Mattel, Adele, Adorno— O DeLorean on extended wings! I know a guy who knows a guy. The octopus of glam rock shoplifting Tide. Ed Dorn, Isadora Duncan, defend us! Yes, Virginia, there is a. Captain Kitty Pryde