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Love Life: Poems
Love Life: Poems
Love Life: Poems
Ebook74 pages23 minutes

Love Life: Poems

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Love is that sobering and paradoxical state of being in which one’s own happiness depends upon the welfare of another. The author’s third volume of poetry examines love in its many guises: familial, romantic, erotic, and Platonic.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 23, 2010
ISBN9781458096890
Love Life: Poems
Author

Mario Milosevic

Mario Milosevic was born in a refugee camp in Italy, grew up in Canada, and holds a degree in philosophy and mathematics from the University of Waterloo. He now lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife, fellow writer Kim Antieau. His poems, stories, and novels have appeared in many venues, both print and online.

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    Book preview

    Love Life - Mario Milosevic

    Preliminary

    Observations

    Miners

    My father went underground

    everyday and clawed

    at the guts of the Earth,

    sending up chunks of rock

    like a rescuer retrieving

    body parts after a disaster.

    My mother worked hard

    finding ways to not think

    about what fate

    might befall him under

    all those tons of ore.

    He would sometimes return home

    with black smudges on his

    cheek or forehead, grimy

    kisses of ancient rock.

    My mother would reach up

    and brush them away

    and he’d smile. See,

    he would say, I always

    come back to you.

    Resisting the Patriarchy

    It’s nineteen seventy.

    I’m twelve.

    My mother and I take a train

    across Canada to visit her

    side of the family for the

    first time since I was born.

    The significance of this fact

    escapes me at the time.

    Our trip reprises our life

    when I was a baby, when

    for two years it was just

    my mother and me.

    Us against the world.

    We arrive in Edmonton.

    I meet uncles and aunts

    and cousins I did not know

    existed. I’m too young to

    understand their reactions

    to me. Too young to see how

    some of them pull away,

    leave the room, look over

    my head. Too young to

    understand that they know

    I’m the son of an independent

    woman who chose her own

    way and left her home in the

    old country to live her life

    on her terms. Too young to

    understand, but not too

    young to see

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