Appetites - Tapa blanda

Críticas

Though it might not be yet apparent, what the world hungers for—not just the poetry world but all sentient beings—are the rapturous, precise, lyrical revelations in Charles Rafferty’s Appetites, a startling collection full of poems that chart desire through an abandoned couch transformed into redeeming ecstasy, that channel the “popcorned and sawdusty air” of the circus tent where folks gather to turn away from themselves, that show us the subversive art of souvenir-taking in the form of a sliver of Picasso’s signature smuggled under a fingernail, and that give us a “Prelude” for our time. In the vein of Stephen Dobyns and Denis Johnson, but ever original and even more expertly-crafted, Rafferty is a major American poet. If you don’t know his work yet, you owe yourself this chapbook.  
—Ravi Shankar

A new collection of poetry by Charles Rafferty is cause for celebration, a hoot and holler at the reader’s good fortune. Appetites is a delightful sequence of poems—sensual, lively, and charmingly perverse. With his feet firmly on the dark earth and his head dizzy in the dark sky, “The Man” shares with us his ravenous adventures in a world he never made. Prepare to be entertained.
—Gaylord Brewer

“The planet tilts and the birds / roll north like marbles.” Bees  working the blooms of blueberries “pull / the blossoms on like bags.” A woman’s body is said to be “laid out like a gleaming wrench.” These are but a few of the myriad delights of the poems in Charles Rafferty’s Appetites. I have found more pleasure, more wisdom, warmth, and humor in this small, exquisite grouping of poems than I have in most of the full-length volumes I’ve read this year. There’s not a weak poem here.
—Davis McCombs