Blurb for the book: Reading Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick’s poems is like finding yourself alone on the Texas plains listening to the wind purse and hum across the distant expanse. There’s a tone, a flutter, a persistent echo that guides you, unexpectedly, toward moments of clarity and release: “Search out stars, a wheeling compass, / tumbling happens. I want weightlessness like that.” Hardwick doesn’t waste time building tension for uneventful payoffs, but confidently—and keenly—lets each line play out whatever dynamite it holds. From the opening page, she tells us, “At the root of everything there’s violence. / Like drilling for oil,” and by the end of Hummingbird Mind we see not only the only pain we inflict on ourselves but also the wonder. The choice in these pages isn’t how to manage our ills and loneliness, but what to do as we move through the wastelands in search of the ‘origin of [our] ache.’—Jeff Simpson, author of Vertical Hold (Steel Toe Books, 2011).
Preorder copies at Mouthfeel Press
Read the book’s blog, here: HummingbirdMindTheBook