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Little Kisses by Lloyd Schwartz 75 pages ~ 28 poems ISBN:9780226458274 (Paper) ISBN:9780226458304 (E-book) Price: $18.00 Publisher: The University of Chicago Press To Order from University of Chicago Press: ABOUT THE BOOK: Called "the master of the poetic one-liner" by the New York Times, acclaimed poet and critic Lloyd Schwartz takes his characteristic tragicomic view of life to some unexpected and disturbing places in this, his fourth book of poetry. Here are poignant and comic poems about personal loss—the mysterious disapp- earance of his oldest friend, his mother's failing memory, a precious gold ring gone missing—along with uneasy love poems and poems about family, identity, travel, and art with all of its potentially recuperative power. Humane, deeply moving, and curiously hopeful, these poems are distinguished by their unsentimental but heartbreaking tenderness, pitch-perfect ear for dialogue, formal surprises, and exuberant sense of humor. ADVANCE PRAISE: "There's a dreaminess to the collection&helips;the sense of conversations with people from prior parts of life in moments just before waking." Boston Globe "In his poetry, Schwartz creates a warm and likable persona who uses verse as a means of dealing with a difficult world. Reading Little Kisses is reassuring — and that is a valuable attribute given the times we are living in." —The Arts Fuse ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Lloyd Schwartz is the Frederick S. Troy Professor of English at the University of Massachusetts Boston, the commentator on classical music and the visual arts for National Public Radio's Fresh Air, and a noted Elizabeth Bishop scholar. In 1994, he was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Criticism. His books of poetry include Cairo Traffic and Goodnight, Gracie, both also published by the University of Chicago Press. FROM THE BOOK Small Airport in Brazil by Lloyd Schwartz 9:31 in the departure lounge, nearly deserted. Monday night—everyone here is a little too tired to be traveling to another city. I search for an interesting face behind the newspapers, and light on a young man: maybe 31?—slim and well-dressed (that is, dressed with some thought): his tan jacket and pressed gray pants in muted harmony with a pale yellow shirt open at the collar (no tie, though there may have been one earlier). They fit him elegantly, suit him, suit his thin, sandy hair and pale, fair skin. His rimless glasses suggest seriousness not fashion: a tone confirmed by the forward gaze behind them— through them. He wears a touchingly simple gold band on his finger, another example of natural elegance—his wife must share his taste. Is he on his way to her? Is she picking him up at another small airport? Will they embrace warmly, gracefully, when he arrives? Or will she be up waiting for him at home, dinner on the table? Or not—already asleep when he finally gets in, after her own long day. Or is he on his way to yet another hotel, after a week of hotels? —tired of hotels; while his attractive, witty, attentive wife, with her eloquent cheekbones and slightly sunken cheeks, begins to show her own weariness of spending so many nights alone. They'll cost something, these nights. Everything costs something when you have to make your way through the world— even if you're not new to the idea, or just beginning not to be new to it.
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