CavanKerryPress.org

BUY THE BOOK

$14.00

$11.20

Add to Cart

View Cart
Shopping Cart by
E-junkie

Email our Managing Editor, Starr Troup,
for special requests, such as:
- orders of more than 20 books
- expedited shipping
- shipping outside the US
Thank you for your support of CavanKerry Press.

BOOK DETAILS

Poetry
123 pp
6 x 9.25
Paperback
0-9707186-1-6
978-0-9707186-1-7
December 2002


Emerging Voices

Misery Islands,
by January Gill O’Neil

Spooky Action at a Distance,
by Howard Levy

My Painted Warriors,
by Peggy Penn

Red Canoe: Love In Its Making, by Joan Cusack Handler

door of thin skins,
by Shira Dentz

The One Fifteen to Penn Station, by Kevin Carey

Where the Dead Are,
by Wanda S. Praisner

Darkening the Grass, by Michael Miller

Neighborhood Register,
by Marcus Jackson

Night Sessions,
by David S. Cho

Underlife,
by January Gill O'Neil

The Second Night of the Spirit, by Bhisham Bherwani

Imago,
by Joseph O. Legaspi

WE AREN'T WHO WE ARE and this world isn't either,
by Christine Korfhage

Through a Gate of Trees,
by Susan Jackson

Against Which,
by Ross Gay

The Silence of Men,
by Richard Jeffrey Newman

The Dishelved Bed,
by Andrea Carter Brown

The Singers I Prefer,
by Christian Barter

The Fork Without Hunger,
by Laurie Lamon

An Imperfect Lover,
Poems and watercolors by Georgianna Orsini

Soft Box,
by Celia Bland

Rattle,
by Eloise Bruce

Momentum,
by Catherine Doty

Silk Elegy,
by Sondra Gash

The Palace of Ashes,
by Sherry Fairchok

Eyelevel: Fifty Histories,
by Christopher Matthews

GLOrious,
by Joan Cusack Handler

So Close, by Peggy Penn

Snakeskin Stilettos,
by Moyra Donaldson

Grub, by Martin Mooney

Kazimierz Square,
by Karen Chase

A Day This Lit,
by Howard Levy

CavanKerry Press LTD.
CavanKerry Press

Silk Elegy

by Sondra Gash

Foreword by Molly Peacock

Silk ElegySilk Elegy is the story of a family fabric that is almost rent in half and its rescuing restoration, not through miracles, but through steadiness of human connection—the human weave. Gash always keeps in mind a larger story, that of the history of anti-Semitism that brings the Bronskys to Paterson, and of the beginnings of the labor movement that was to hold the silk industry accountable for its workers. This book is not a collection of poems, but a single poem, standing on the integrity of its parts, just as individuals’ integrities create a social fabric. —Molly Peacock

From the world of early-twentieth century immigrant experience, Sondra Gash has fashioned a compelling work of art. She respects history in her summoning up of the world of the silk factories; she respects narrative in her piecing together several points of view to tell a complex story. Best of all, her words throb with the delicate, relentless energy of the human pulse. You can hear these people and see them and feel deeply for them. She scants neither the bright opportunity America presented nor the suffering that opportunity could occasion. Silk Elegy shows that the genre of the long poem is alive and well. —Baron Wormser

Sondra Gash’s Silk Elegy is a family saga, a story of memory and madness, of the nascent labor movement, of love, growth and healing, told mainly in the voice of a girl—so says her mother—“from a long line of rhapsodic women.” Silk Elegy is poignant and beautiful in its feel for detail, the sad and rich textures of life. I read it in one sitting, and it brought a lost world to life for me. —Alicia Ostriker

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sondra GashSONDRA GASH grew up in Paterson, NJ. Her poems have appeared in The New York Times, Calyx, The Paterson Literary Review, and U.S. 1 Worksheets. She has received grants from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts and the Corporation of Yaddo, and won first prize in the Allen Ginsberg Poetry Competition. In 1999, the Geraldine Dodge Foundation awarded her a fellowship to the Virginia Center for the Arts. She lives with her husband in New Jersey, where she teaches writing and directs the poetry program at the Women’s Resource Center in Summit.

 

EXCERPT

A Turban of Handkerchiefs

all the time
Mama’s headaches

she lives under turbans
I help her wrap them

hot wet handkerchiefs
rolled and twisted

a wobbly crown
on her head

in her bedroom
day folds into night

even at noon
Mama hides under the covers

shh   close the door
I need quiet

pull down the shades
I need dark

but even the quiet
not quiet enough

even the dark
not dark enough