In a Dark Time … The Eye Begins to See

What the Living Do Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there. And the Drano won’t work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up waiting for the plumber I still haven’t called. This is the everyday we spoke of. … But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the [...]

Marie Howe’s book of poems entitled What the Living Do begins with a simple, straight-forward poem that rings more of truth than poetry: The Boy My older brother is walking down the sidewalk into the suburban summer night: white T-shirt, blue jeans-to the field at the end of the street Hangers Hideout the boys called it, an undeveloped plot, [...]

The second section of Marie Howe’s What the Living Do shifts from her childhood and focuses on the death of her brother, and others, from AIDS. Although I wasn’t as moved as I was by the opening section of the book, at times it was extremely painful to read her description of his [...]