Thursday, February 13, 2020

poems that dance on a faultline... @Mistress_Tweet on #That Strapless Bra in Heaven ...Mary Meriam-reviews #poems


Thank you, Mary, although I'm really not erudite. I simply remember
books I read in college. Sarah 

 Reviewed in the United States on February 9, 2020


 Reviewed in the United States on February 9, 2020
Sarah Sarai throws her balls of erudition in the air and juggles them into poems that dance on a faultline between frolic and rage. What does “that strapless bra in heaven” represent? It’s a subversive, underwire, feminist image: breasts free of straps, comfortably supported, floating like angels. It’s also a lesbian image: a symbol of 
pink and lacy bliss. “Who wouldn’t want to spend millennia  / in a fine female breast?” Sarai asks queer questions and answers them in a dazzling milieu of her own creation. No one writes like Sarah Sarai.

Friday, February 7, 2020

Like That Strapless Bra! @ https://www.facebook.com/thatstraplessbra/ #poems #poetrycollection


Like the Page! On Facebook!
Stay in touch!

That Strapless Bra in Heaven (Kelsay Books) is Sarah Sarai's third book and second full-length poetry collection. Click on the link to order. $14! 

The Facebook page includes:

  • A complete list of poem titles!
  • Comments, as they come in, from reviewers!
  • An exciting guide on how to order your very own a copy of THAT STRAPLESS BRA IN HEAVEN!
  • With links! and price breakdown! ($14 +shipping)!
  • Welcome to the blurbs!

Poems in Strapless were first published in Prelude, Boston Review, Posit, Ethel, Barrow Street, Zocalo Public Square, Oddball, Birds Fall Silent in the Mechanical Sea, Quiddity, Isacoustic, SWWiM, and many other fine journals.





Monday, February 3, 2020

Relive those parties where every bottle was uncorked... "After and Sometimes" #poem



After and Sometimes


Relive those parties where every bottle was uncorked and
passed around and everyone smoked everything, double-
checked each auto’s glove box for at least a Sherman or 
a roach. And you left with exactly the wrong woman who 
was exactly the right one, if only for less than twelve hours. 
And not everyone was anything, not white, employed,
focused. And all had self-righteous halos of wild hair 
imperfect as a precisely imprecise stitch in a Persian rug.
You had fun. We all did. It had become more possible.

Sarah Sarai. Stonewalls' Legacy: A Poetry Anthology. Hidden Gems Press., Ed. Rusty Rose & Marc Rosen. 2019.

photo. Sarah Sarai. Madison Square Park.