Funny, heartbreaking, haunting: Jane Yeh's poems open windows onto utterly strange - and eerily familiar - worlds. Lonely ghosts hover around children on their way to school; lilies whisper among themselves, their heads 'filled with pollen and boredom'. Three solemn children in a Van Dyck portrait gaze out into their futures. Moving between high art and pop culture, Yeh creates richly textured poems, their lyrical beauty cut with a dark wit. How do we face death, how survive loss? What does it take to carry on? 'O tempura, O monkeys'.
Funny, heartbreaking, haunting: Jane Yeh's poems open windows onto utterly strange - and eerily familiar - worlds. Lonely ghosts hover around children on their way to school; lilies whisper among themselves, their heads 'filled with pollen and boredom'. Three solemn children in a Van Dyck portrait gaze out into their futures. Moving between high art and pop culture, Yeh creates richly textured poems, their lyrical beauty cut with a dark wit. How do we face death, how survive loss? What does it take to carry on? 'O tempura, O monkeys'.
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