We find out the heart only by dismantling what the heart knows. By redefining the morning, we find a morning that comes just after darkness. We can break through marriage into marriage. By insisting on love we spoil it, get beyond affection and wade mouth-deep into love. We must unlearn the constellations to see
Jan 26 2019
The poet Ailey O’Toole will be reading from her debut collection, Grief, and What Comes After (Rhythm & Bones Press, 2018).
This fierce first collection, a compilation of pain, rejuvenation and rebirth, pioneers landscapes of forgiveness, where Ailey O’Toole’s poems ascend to create a resting place of self-compassion and atonement. Follow along as O’Toole recounts her journey from emotional decimation to a place of redemption and self-love. Her shuttles of reckoning dive-bomb and crash, but never fail to pull passengers from the wreckage. These poems are a punch to the gut, a heart beating on the page, a nightmare turned daydream, as Ailey O’Toole buries what we hope to find and helps us see grace in the wild. How do we heal after re-injuring ourselves the same way? Following any major collapse, O’Toole helps us to find resiliency within ourselves in her debut collection.
551 Carpenter Lane19119 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
recent & featured listings
|Writing Program||The Stadler Center for Poetry at Bucknell||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||University of Pennsylvania||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Carnegie Mellon University||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Chatham University||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Mansfield University||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Penn State University||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Temple University||Pennsylvania|
|Writing Program||Bucknell Seminar for Undergraduate Poets||Pennsylvania|
|Landmark||The Marianne Moore Collection at the Rosenbach Museum & Library||Pennsylvania|
|Small Press||Carnegie Mellon University Press||Pennsylvania|
Steamtown National Historic Site was created in 1986 to
preserve the history of steam railroading in America,
concentrating on the era 1850 through 1950.
We weren’t supposed to, so we did
what any band of boys would do
& we did it the
Driving alone at night, the world’s pitch, black velvet stapled occasionally by red tail lights on the opposite highway but otherwise mild panic when the eyes’ habitual check produces nothing at all in the rearview mirror, a black blank, now nothing exists but the dotted white lines of the road, and the car