“There is friendship in Neil Azevedo's vision. A warm tone flow. Brutal history is confronted with thoughts edged and graceful. And his dad poems are some of the best, most intense you'll come across. Good stuff!” Thurston Moore of Sonic Youth
978-0-8021-4196-5 • $13.00 • Paperback • Apr. 2005
I see you now, lit by myself: evening’s disguise, color of mist, semblance of vines, the pleach of clouds swollen with hail.
We touch the ground swiftly; you’ve shown
me how to hide, to escape in flight’s shadow.
I see you in the shine of the horse
in hooves moist with alfalfa, slower
in bean-spears and in dirt hay-fragrant.
And I follow through the hands of trees
galloping to accept your gifts, Majesty,
with need to be bells warning of frost.
With love, now, show me how to move.
I have come home to lie down in you
saint-like and febrile at dusk.
Neil Azevedo’s Ocean introduces a shadowy world populated with dogs and snakes, suicide and children, sickness and satire, Satan and Christ, yet one doesn’t feel soggy with introspection. Instead, wisdom emerges from these often personal and well-articulated lyrics; the reader is moved by the juxtaposition of savagery of subject and delicacy of touch. The verbal and often gothic brilliance of the language is stunning. It’s not often that a young poet successfully embraces meter, finding a refined, velvet-toned style, and creates such a stellar debut.