Only one NaPoWriMo poem today, but it’s a long one. This was the challenge for day 18: In Media Res, I was going to just write a short one, and then the poem took on a life of its own, as they often do, and rightfully so.
In Media Res
By Rena Rossner
if I stand in a tribe of goats
with thistles swaying in prayer
and squint to bring the daylight
moon in focus, I know I’ll never
find you in Jerusalem you are
forever leaving something, night,
sleep, darkness, love, a poem
left behind that wandered, found
and stopped its trek, mid-song
amid the doves that nestle in the
stones here, where water costs
more than a plane ticket and a
century can pass on camelback,
where foreign tongues shroud your
face, your fingers burnt by tea, a
siren in the desert sounds, crowds
collect, locusts swarm, tender morsels,
dreams, lucid, interpreted, pour through
you like sandstorms, thirst is an oasis,
the way you stare, the moon your echo,
what the body remembers and how so
much can go unnoticed. Like the sand
between your toes at night, you don’t
know how it got there, and almonds
blossom, unexpectedly, that scent,
zaatar pinched between fingers,
persimmons ripe and rotten, the ruins
of the castle, the reddish clay
you grasp, and then release. Coffee,
bitter, dust-filled, nothing tastes the
same, and something always reminds
you, the door you thought was home,
the river that’s a phone, reflections on
pint glasses, tuborg, red, like caramel,
chocolate, you hear the bells of skype
sounds, every night the same, and
mornings, restful, quiet, lone, you step
into the backyard, ghosts and chickens
to be fed, and cats, always, gendarmes
at the siege, you start to name things,
touchstones, take them from the river,
where you bathe your past, large hands,
steady, stone-like, fused from sand
and shadow, this is what you’ve been
reduced to. The whistle of desire, pain
always with pleasure, the satin of a woman,
the middle, which is always a beginning
and an end, a poem, broken, winged, a goat
bleat of the heart, always wondering if
. I found 
less shocking, but no less eye-opening and enjoyable. I felt like I was introduced and transported to a completely different world and found it intriguing and vivid and real. Jeanette Walls is truly a talented storyteller. The book is hailed as “Laura Ingalls Wilder for adults” and while I see no reason why the Little House books are not for adults, I certainly agree with that assessment. Life on the prairie, on ranches, learning about the nitty gritty details of the lives of real ranchers and cowboys was not a topic I ever thought that I would find enjoyable or fascinating and yet in this book, they were both. In truth, it is a good idea to read the books in tandem, as Half Broke Horses explains a lot about Rosemary by way of Lily and in turn, Jeannette as well.
and I only hope it doesn’t take her nine more years to write her next novel! I don’t think I can wait that long!
tremendously. Not only is it well written, but the unexpected story told by Marianne and how unreliable both his narration and hers become. It is at once a psychological thriller, a moral novel, a love story, a novel about art and sculpture, about religion and faith, a fantasy, historical fiction, a story about addiction and recovery and a story about hope – but more than all of these combined – an extremely well written novel.
finally came my way, I jumped at the chance. Annika is the loveliest of characters, though you can’t help getting a bit frustrated at her not seeing how evil and blatantly wrong her mother is, but more than anything I loved her descriptions of Vienna, of the pastries, and of how she learned to cook. This is what every young adult novel should be. Smart. Funny. Beautifully written. Old fashioned. Educational. A real coming of age novel.
not just because it was so well written – as all of Edna O’Brien’s works are, but also because I felt that its themes were universal. All of us at some point have wanted to escape our lives, to do something reckless and dangerous, to have a fling, to spontaneously go on vacation. But every decision we make has a consequence, and so, while this novel is a sad story – it is infinitely approachable in its universality.
because I found the first few chapters pretty slow – but once this book grabbed me, WOW! I couldn’t put it down. I basically read the book in one sitting except for those first few chapters. The book has a happy ending even though the characters all go through some pretty terrible things in their lifetimes and you know what? I like happy endings. A lot. Especially when they are unexpected. Especially when people can find a way to forgive and a way to love and a way to hope and move on and find redemption against all odds. 
has stayed at the top of my “most favorite books ever read” list for many many years, I was disappointed by 
. Michaels’ language does not disappoint – it never does – she is a master of her craft and almost any sentence in the novel is breathtaking, but the story simply did not grasp me and pull me in the way 
