{"product_id":"i-praise-my-destroyer-isbn-9780679771340","title":"I Praise My Destroyer","description":"In her first new book of poetry since \u003cb\u003eJaguar of Sweet Laughter\u003c\/b\u003e, poet and naturalist Diane Ackerman combines her deep understanding of the world with her immense passion for language to craft richly sensual poems that \"honor all life\/wherever and in whatever form\/it may deal.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eImbued with ravishing imagery, these exuberant and lyrical explorations of aging, longing, and death demonstrate Ackerman's full engagement with every aspect of life's process. Ackerman muses on the confines of therapy sessions, where she intersects \"twice a week\/in a painstaking hide-and-seek\/making do with half-light, half-speak\"; relishes the succulent pleasure of eating an apricot, with its \"gush of taboo sweetness\"; and imagines the \"unupholstered voice, a life in outline\" in her stunning elegy to C. S. Lewis. Whimsical, organic, and wise, the poems in \u003cb\u003eI Praise My Destroyer\u003c\/b\u003e affirm Ackerman's place as one of the most enchanting poets writing today.\"Brilliant . . . Ackerman expresses her signature love for the world in all its seething glory. . . . Her sensuality is still in full force.\"  --\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"[These poems are] full of physical participation in the world, human involvement, and (as one might expect of this scholar of the senses) an eloquent eye.\"  --Richard Wilbur\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Vivid, playful, abundant, these poems constitute a directory of colors, an assembly of weathers, waters, creatures, and a bold, brash, invincible vote of confidence.\"  --Anthony Hecht\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"[Ackerman's] poems express a sense of sheer joy in physical existence, which she explores in language that has its own intense life. The book is a pure pleasure.\"  --Louis SimpsonDiane Ackerman lives in upstate New york.\u003cb\u003eWE DIE \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--\u003ci\u003efor Carl Sagan \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite appointments and feuds, \u003cbr\u003ewhile our toddler, \u003cbr\u003ewho recently learned to say No, \u003cbr\u003eopens and shuts drawers \u003cbr\u003ea hundred times a day \u003cbr\u003eand our teen braces \u003cbr\u003efor the rapids of romance. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite the contracts \u003cbr\u003eand business trips we planned, \u003cbr\u003ewhen our desk is untidy, \u003cbr\u003edespite a long list of things to do \u003cbr\u003ewhich we keep simmering \u003cbr\u003elike a pot of rich broth. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite work we cherish, \u003cbr\u003emarrying whom we love, \u003cbr\u003epiling up a star-spangled fortune, \u003cbr\u003ebasking on the Riviera of fame, \u003cbr\u003eand \u003ci\u003eachieving\u003c\/i\u003e, that human participle \u003cbr\u003ewith no known object. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eLife is not fair\u003c\/i\u003e, the old saw goes. \u003cbr\u003eWe know, we know, but the saw glides slow, \u003cbr\u003eone faint rasp, and then at length another. \u003cbr\u003eWhen you died, I felt its jagged teeth rip. \u003cbr\u003eSmall heartwounds opened and bled,\u003cbr\u003eclosing as new ones opened ahead. \u003cbr\u003eHorror welled, not from the how but the when. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou died at the top of your career, \u003cbr\u003ehappy, blessed by love, still young. \u003cbr\u003ePlaying by evolution's rules, you won: \u003cbr\u003eprospered, bred, rose in your tribe, \u003cbr\u003edid what the parent gods and society prized. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet it didn't save you, love or dough. \u003cbr\u003eEven when it happens slow, it happens fast, \u003cbr\u003eand then there's no tomorrow. \u003cbr\u003eTime topples, the castle of cards collapses, \u003cbr\u003ethoughts melt, the subscription lapses. \u003cbr\u003eWhat a waste of life we spend in asking, \u003cbr\u003ein wish and worry and want and sorrow. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA tall man, you lie low, now and forever \u003cbr\u003ecomplete, your brilliant star eclipsed. \u003cbr\u003eI remember our meeting, many gabfests ago, \u003cbr\u003eat a crossroads of moment and mind. \u003cbr\u003eIn later years, touched by nostalgia, \u003cbr\u003eI teased: \"I knew you when \u003cbr\u003eyou were just a badly combed scientist.\" \u003cbr\u003eWith a grin, you added: \"I knew you when \u003cbr\u003eyou were just a fledgling poet.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLost friend, you taught me lessons \u003cbr\u003eI longed to learn, and this final one I've learned \u003cbr\u003eagainst my will: the one spoken in silence, \u003cbr\u003ewarning us to love hard and deep, \u003cbr\u003eclutch dear ones tighter, ransom each day, \u003cbr\u003ethe horror lesson I saw out of the corner of my eye \u003cbr\u003ebut refused to believe until now: we die. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eWE DIE \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e--\u003ci\u003efor Carl Sagan \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite appointments and feuds, \u003cbr\u003ewhile our toddler, \u003cbr\u003ewho recently learned to say No, \u003cbr\u003eopens and shuts drawers \u003cbr\u003ea hundred times a day \u003cbr\u003eand our teen braces \u003cbr\u003efor the rapids of romance. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite the contracts \u003cbr\u003eand business trips we planned, \u003cbr\u003ewhen our desk is untidy, \u003cbr\u003edespite a long list of things to do \u003cbr\u003ewhich we keep simmering \u003cbr\u003elike a pot of rich broth. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe die despite work we cherish, \u003cbr\u003emarrying whom we love, \u003cbr\u003epiling up a star-spangled fortune, \u003cbr\u003ebasking on the Riviera of fame, \u003cbr\u003eand \u003ci\u003eachieving\u003c\/i\u003e, that human participle \u003cbr\u003ewith no known object. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eLife is not fair\u003c\/i\u003e, the old saw goes. \u003cbr\u003eWe know, we know, but the saw glides slow, \u003cbr\u003eone faint rasp, and then at length another. \u003cbr\u003eWhen you died, I felt its jagged teeth rip. \u003cbr\u003eSmall heartwounds opened and bled,\u003cbr\u003eclosing as new ones opened ahead. \u003cbr\u003eHorror welled, not from the how but the when. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou died at the top of your career, \u003cbr\u003ehappy, blessed by love, still young. \u003cbr\u003ePlaying by evolution's rules, you won: \u003cbr\u003eprospered, bred, rose in your tribe, \u003cbr\u003edid what the parent gods and society prized. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet it didn't save you, love or dough. \u003cbr\u003eEven when it happens slow, it happens fast, \u003cbr\u003eand then there's no tomorrow. \u003cbr\u003eTime topples, the castle of cards collapses, \u003cbr\u003ethoughts melt, the subscription lapses. \u003cbr\u003eWhat a waste of life we spend in asking, \u003cbr\u003ein wish and worry and want and sorrow. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA tall man, you lie low, now and forever \u003cbr\u003ecomplete, your brilliant star eclipsed. \u003cbr\u003eI remember our meeting, many gabfests ago, \u003cbr\u003eat a crossroads of moment and mind. \u003cbr\u003eIn later years, touched by nostalgia, \u003cbr\u003eI teased: \"I knew you when \u003cbr\u003eyou were just a badly combed scientist.\" \u003cbr\u003eWith a grin, you added: \"I knew you when \u003cbr\u003eyou were just a fledgling poet.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLost friend, you taught me lessons \u003cbr\u003eI longed to learn, and this final one I've learned \u003cbr\u003eagainst my will: the one spoken in silence, \u003cbr\u003ewarning us to love hard and deep, \u003cbr\u003eclutch dear ones tighter, ransom each day, \u003cbr\u003ethe horror lesson I saw out of the corner of my eye \u003cbr\u003ebut refused to believe until now: we die. Author of A Natural History of the Senses","brand":"Vintage","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303660376293,"sku":"NP9780679771340","price":15.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780679771340.jpg?v=1767729693","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/i-praise-my-destroyer-isbn-9780679771340","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}