by Keith Garebian
A delve into the personal history of a man affected by the Armenian genocide and the ways he makes Canada home. The poetic lines and strong emotional tug of the book outline the long lasting effects of trauma and what it means to remake a home.
|Dimensions||9 × 6 × .25 in|
Soft Cover with flaps
Keith Garebian is the author of nineteen books of non-fiction and ten previous poetry collections. He is the winner of the William Saroyan Medal (Armenia), and numerous other awards for writing. His poetry has been translated into French, Romanian, Bulgarian, Hebrew, Armenian, and Hungarian.
The Toughest Organ
The heart, the toughest organ
beating in burning caves stopped with rock,
crucifixions on high altars,
under water where fish leech the drowned.
The heart beats in relics,
buttons, hair, shoes, gold teeth.
No need for more inventories.
The heart lives strongest against forgetting
in paper trails. Crusoe’s journal, Anne Frank’s diary,
Radnoti’s small notebook soaked in body fluids,
Oh, if I could believe that I haven’t merely borne
what is worthwhile, in my heart; that there is, to return a home.[i]
Hikmet’s prison letters to his wife,
(I’m not allowed
to see the sky overhead…)[ii]
Gunter Eich’s postcards:
But when the war is over
we’ll go to Minsk
and pick up Grandmother.[iii]