Whale Day by Billy Collins

Death runs like a thread through these poems, weaving in and out, never subtle, rather, “death is the magnetic north of poetry” here. ➕ The fourth section hit me hardest, because “The Ghost in You” by the Psychedelic Furs began to play, and the first poem is one I know well, only here Collins made the smallest changes, so it was like finding myself in a dream in a room I know I know but cannot place. ➕ The Furs sing, “Angels fall like rain/And love is all of heaven away,” and everything collides: the new year, and whatever comes next and next.

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