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A series of brief, haunting lyrics and prose fragments, the poems in As for Dream hover in suspension between states of consciousness or being. Hamilton's verse both illustrates and investigates the human experience at many different intervals: as we wake from the dream world, as we meet the loss or disruption of our desires, as we tend to the ill, and as we die. Once we cross those boundaries, does the self remain intact? These poems record a...

Who becomes familiar with mortalillness for very long. I was a stranger, &c., Not everyone appreciates it, noone finds being the third personbecoming, it's never accurate, and then one is headed for the past tense.Futurity that was once a lark, a gamble, a chance messenger, traffic and trade, under sail.The boy touches your arm in his sleepfor ballast. It's warm in the hold. Betweenship and sky, the bounds of sightalone, sphere so bounded.-fro...

In All Souls, Saskia Hamilton transforms compassion, fear, expectation, and memory into art of the highest order. Judgment is suspended as the poems and lyric fragments make an inventory of truths that carry us through night's reckoning with mortal hope into daylight. But even daylight-with its escapements and unbreakable numbers, "restless, / irregular light and shadow, awakened"-can't appease the crisis of survival at the heart of this colle...

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Contains work from two collections published in America - "As for Dream" (2001) and "Divide These" (2005).

Hamilton is able to sustain a complex narrative through stripped-down poems . . . leavened by a wry humor." -The New York Times Book ReviewI wanted to read an essay in your wrist.The afternoon seemed endless. Out the window, a lane to the right was bending away, taking with it the figure moving down it.Alone for a quarter of an hour, looking in, plotting the argument, all the marks of lucidityand brevity in that attempt, that benefit of rhetor...

Poet Saskia Hamilton, author of As for Dream, explores "where the pull of reverie becomes palpable and eerily seductive" ("Poetry"). Only nightFirst light I will not quite fit in this hole nor you with your long fingers --from "Divide These" These spare, evocative poems register things at the edge of our attention that confound our systems of belief. In "Divide These, " Saskia Hamilton brings delicate observation together with riveting asser...