Description

The poems in The Massacre Confirmed Our Worst Suspicions were written over a 25-year period between about 1993 and 2018. They were written as they came to me. Where they came from I have no idea. Something strikes me, bugs me for a period of time, and gets written as a kind of relief. The poems seem, to me, to be a curious mixture of whimsy, longing and outrage about the passage of time, memory, relics, unrequited love and death. Most of them, if not all, are more or less objective, or attempt to be. This is because of a conscious effort by me to strip personal pronouns from my poems. The damn things get in the way. They say, in effect, that the poet has had some ultra-special experience that the reader can't possibly have had, and that the poet, in her or his magnanimity, has deigned to bestow them on less special people. I think of myself as a reporter whose reporting just happens to take the form of poems.

The Massacre Confirmed Our Worst Suspicions

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Paperback / softback by W. Bruce MacDonald

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The poems in The Massacre Confirmed Our Worst Suspicions were written over a 25-year period between about 1993 and 2018.... Read more

    Publisher: Guernica Editions,Canada
    Publication Date: 01/12/2018
    ISBN13: 9781771834087, 978-1771834087
    ISBN10: 1771834080

    Number of Pages: 110

    Fiction , Poetry

    Description

    The poems in The Massacre Confirmed Our Worst Suspicions were written over a 25-year period between about 1993 and 2018. They were written as they came to me. Where they came from I have no idea. Something strikes me, bugs me for a period of time, and gets written as a kind of relief. The poems seem, to me, to be a curious mixture of whimsy, longing and outrage about the passage of time, memory, relics, unrequited love and death. Most of them, if not all, are more or less objective, or attempt to be. This is because of a conscious effort by me to strip personal pronouns from my poems. The damn things get in the way. They say, in effect, that the poet has had some ultra-special experience that the reader can't possibly have had, and that the poet, in her or his magnanimity, has deigned to bestow them on less special people. I think of myself as a reporter whose reporting just happens to take the form of poems.

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