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Miracles that Keep Me Going, Poems by Charlie Brice
The miracles that keep Charlie Brice going are the small moments, of joy, of laughter, that come from every direction in the quotidian day.
“Charlie Brice is a keen observer of the human condition through the lens of his own experiences. Mixing bravado with pathos, with humor veering into hilarity, and drawing from every stage of life from childhood onwards, Brice playfully gazes at the quotidian, unflinchingly recalls misunderstandings and humiliations, states of being, and moments of triumph, confusion, and tenderness in a series of snapshots of life’s many idiosyncrasies.”—David Ades, author of Afloat in Light
“Charlie Brice’s poems brim with humor and warmth, with wonder and insight. This is a poet who revels in wordplay, in metaphor, and in story. The Dali Lama, Freud, and James Brown appear in the pages of Brice’s newest book, as do various people from his life, including his dear friends and family. A deep honesty runs through Brice’s work, whether in a poem of lament or one of celebration. The miracles that keep Brice going are those moments of joy and love that fill his ‘thirsty heart,’ that help him see ‘There’s hope in this gamble called life.’”—Christine Rhein, author of Wild Flight
“Don’t read this book in a hushed library or art museum. And don’t even think about it if you’re at a funeral. There are bust-out-laughing high jinks going on in Miracles that Keep Me Going, beginning with its prologue poem ‘Hot Poems to Go’ where poem is pizza. Humor, wonderfully irreverent humor is Brice’s strong suit. He uses it to great effect and is fearless, taking on the philosophical, psychological, psychoanalytical, religious, political, and personal. Behind the wit and good-hearted fun of this learned man, however, is a fat little boy. Look for him in post-World War II Cheyanne, Wyoming, down in the basement rec room replete with wood-paneled walls and surfer pictures on those walls. This lonely boy is up on the piano-shaped coffee table waving his chubby arms, directing symphonies coming from the record player. ‘We are held hostage by our upbringing and the lacunae it inevitably creates,’ Brice tells us. Parental alcoholism is the primary hostage taker in this child’s upbringing with its absence and dysfunction of two hopelessly addicted parents. His escape from a home and culture both crude and cruel and arrival through the mature love of wife and child to deeply felt living in the present now is truly a miracle in this terrific book.”—Diane Kerr, author of Perigee