Last Turn Of The Midnight Carousel

Description

Matthew Abuelo's Forever Turn the Midnight Carousel is a head-spinning depiction of harshest reality in New York City. Reading his sequence of poetry and stories is like “visiting the world of the forgotten.” In subway tunnels, psychiatric wards, and single occupancy rooms are individuals depicted in such brutal honesty by Abuelo that the reader cannot turn away or forget. Those of us fortunate enough to live “ordinary lives with ordinary fears” won't easily file away this writer's images–a “shut-in” dreading an eviction notice, a depressed tenant conceding “the instinct to survive but with no will to live,” a suicidal pedestrian for whom no cab stops. Forever Turn the Midnight Carousel is poetic recognition of lives cordoned off from meaning by urban excess and corruption. Through his searing poems and unflinching narratives, Mathew Abuelo speaks for those who know “the voice can become a severed limb.” His stark reminder of desperation just up the block or down the hallway is a jolting call for compassion.
Judith Austin Mills, author of Accidental Joy: a streak of poetry, and the Texas Revolution trilogy How Far Tomorrow, Those Bones at Goliad and The Dove Shall Fly

About the Author

Author Name : Matthew Abuelo

     

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Latest Poem

In my Room long ago
I sat so merry in my abode
Loving hands around me
I dreamt of such glorious days
One day i would see

I remember the day I left
My room
I closed the door behind me
One quick look again
Then walked away
The room which would always remind me

The glorious days I had dreamt
I did merrily spent
How little did I then know
Life turns on a dime
My room is now not as it was
When I closed the door
Behind me

My room now is a prison
But not how one would invision
It is one of sorrow and grief
Sadness burns into the bare walls
I catch my breath
And weep

Why did thou'st doth betray?
The room which once embraced me
I ask with riddled heart
Jagged and torn
Which wicked riddles have I thus sought?

I sit still
I am now my room
No dreams as once before
I age before my open door

In my room long ago
I sat merrily in my loving abode
Loving hands did hold me
All gone

My room and myself
Now one
Two thrust to be together
Forever
Alone
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