The poetry of Ariana Reines, of which I’ve written over the last two weeks, can sometimes feel eerily adolescent. Eery because her poetry is very adult in its intelligence, but pubescent in its affected interactions with the world. To me, it is the poetic version of the hit HBO series “Girls.”
Drunk sex lives around the corner from Reines’s smart, prose-like poems. The following piece is a good example of this:
Glass
Formalism and grammar are ways to be thin.
Emotions and their consolidation
In infants are ways to be women.
Thin women are ways to see the world.
A medium is a device through which a world makes itself known or seen or heard.
The world touches me in the middle of myself where I am neither hot or cold.
When I feel mildly bad but not bad enough I have to drink till I can’t stand up
And…
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