
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

How long is the night?
Ain’t no preacher knows the way.
Water make me clean.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.
© 2021 Fred Slusher. All rights reserved.

More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of
white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of
aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

***Note: I received a free digital review copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.***
Isabelle is a bright and curious little girl who keeps a jar full of special treasures which she protects as if it were a pot of gold. She lives a happy life for the most part but she is sad because she has a lot of trouble connecting with other kids her age and making friends. Sometimes it’s easier for her to work alone in class or stay in her bedroom admiring the treasures in her treasure jar than it would be for her to work with others or to venture out and play with other children.
One day when Isabelle arrives home from school, she has a letter and a present from her Aunt Nancy waiting for her. The present is a yellow porcelain button her aunt found in a field near an abandoned button factory in France—and it is christened Isabel’s Proud Button—proud because she takes such pride in caring for her treasures.
Perhaps, she thinks, she can treat herself and the people around her the same way she treats her treasures. And maybe, just maybe, this will help her make friends who will value her back.
The notion of taking pride in things you care for strikes a chord in Isabelle. Perhaps, she thinks, she can treat herself and the people around her the same way she treats her treasures. And maybe, just maybe, this will help her make friends who will value her back.
Isabelle’s Proud Button gives her the courage to do just that, and soon she is connecting with others and learning the joys of friendship.
It [The Proud Button] teaches (or reminds) us that there’s nothing wrong with taking pride in the things you own but that it’s much more important to care for the people in your life because your stuff can’t love you back.
The Proud Button is a wonderful story that can be enjoyed by children and adults alike. It teaches (or reminds) us that there’s nothing wrong with taking pride in the things you own but that it’s much more important to care for the people in your life because your stuff can’t love you back.
The Proud Button is due to be released on September 14th, 2021 by Clavis and is now available to preorder wherever books are sold.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

I once read about a burglar’s lantern, made for sneaking around in the dark. A metal box built so not a single ray of light can escape without the owner opening one of its narrow shutters. I’m that flame. Every want I have meets with its metal walls, like a supernova locked in a titanium prison.

***Note: I received a free digital review copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.***
The world is a big and wonderful place but it can also be quite confusing. Why are elephants so big while ants are so tiny? Why do humans have two legs while spiders have eight legs and snakes have no legs? Gökçe İrten does a fantastic job of showing preschool-age children that our world is filled with a diverse array of creatures both big and small and that everything and everyone serves their own unique and special purpose. Can You See Me? is perfect for introducing young audiences to empathy- and perspective-building, and Gökçe İrten’s gorgeously rendered illustrations are sure to delight them as well. Can You See Me? is a book I’ll be eagerly recommending to parents, caregivers, and the children accompanying them.
Can You See Me?: A Book About Feeling Small by Gökçe İrten is due to be released on September 7th, 2021 by Kids Can Press and is now available to preorder wherever books are sold.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Electric city.
Love boats made planks on the rocks.
Ruin, my one song.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.
© 2021 Fred Slusher. All rights reserved.

Last night I watched the drag queen’s hip-pad
drift down her leg
and distort the full moon
of her figure. By dawn you won’t recall
how I hummed her song to you while you were
sleeping.
We call this a marriage, but it isn’t
called that
outside
this room. It isn’t called a thing. I’ve searched for
a word
that means what I mean it to - how we are a part
of the world as much as we are apart from it -
and it does not exist. Still, we make of this thing
an imitation, an effigy. Still, we make it each day
because we exist, weary phantom, as both the
flesh
and the illusion,
because we live together
even if we live as a drag queen does, drawing
applause from a world that holds her at bay.

In the Time of PrEP by Jacques J. Rancourt

Novena by Jacques J. Rancourt

Broken Spectre: Poems (due to be released on September 14th, 2021) by Jacques J. Rancourt
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

When a shy person smiles, it’s like the sun coming out.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green
bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding
sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I
pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
It’s almost cliché to love Dylan Thomas at this point and what a shame that is. Do not go gentle into that good night is so popular because it is so profound, opening itself up to multiple interpretations. Thomas wrote it as his father was ill and dying, the poem’s urgency borne of both his current and impending grief.
If dreams are deferred and passions put aside for more pressing matters, the regret found at the end of a life not fully lived can drive a soul to despair and a mind to madness. You want to beg for more time and the plea falls on deaf ears.
There’s also a fair amount of regret expressed: Though wise men at their end know dark is right, / Because their words had forked no lightning they / Do not go gentle into that good night. Oxford Languages gives the definition of forked lightning as “lightning that is visible in the form of a branching line across the sky.” People who are facing death are forced to reckon with the way they’ve spent their time on earth, and part of this is measuring the impact of one’s words and deeds. If dreams are deferred and passions put aside for more pressing matters, the regret found at the end of a life not fully lived can drive a soul to despair and a mind to madness. You want to beg for more time and the plea falls on deaf ears.
What did you think about today’s poem? Do any lines strike you in particular? Let me know in the comments.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter and Instagram @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.