A Dance in the Street

  

poems by Jared Carter



A Dance in the Street is available from your local bookstore, or from on-line vendors such as Amazon or Barnes & Noble.


   BUY HERE   
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Wind Publications
600 Overbrook Drive
Nicholasville, KY 40356
books@windpub.com

 

     

What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song?
Or wisdom for a dance in the street?
                             — William Blake

Praise for Jared Carter's previous books —

      Work, for the Night Is Coming 
From beginning to end, this volume has the quiet passion of conviction, the voice of a poet who knows exactly what he wants to say and how to say it. . . . Behind the range of styles and approaches, one recognizes a single honest and contemporary voice. 
— Dana Gioia 

     
Poetry After the Rain 
A moving and magical book, charming in the best sense of that word. . . . Jared Carter is the real thing. 
— Ted Kooser, New Letters Book Reviewer 

     
Les Barricades Mystérieuses  
Carter’s book is profoundly conservative, in that it suggests a return to tradition . . . is the only way to resuscitate a dead world and an impoverished culture. . . . This amazing collection of linked villanelles is Carter’s contribution to that project of recovery. 
— Joseph Salemi, Iambs & Trochees 

     
Cross this Bridge at a Walk 
[This book] will delight you . . . It may also remind you of something important about being a reader or writer of poetry: literary theories come and go; good poetry stays good forever. 
— Anna Evans, The Barefoot Muse



    From A Dance in the Street


Fire Burning in a 55-Gallon Drum

Next time you’ll notice them on your way to work
or when you drive by that place near the river
where the stockyards used to stand, where everything

is gone now. They’ll be leaning over the edge
of the barrel, getting it started — they’ll step back
suddenly, and hold out their hands, as though

something fearful had appeared at its center.
Others will be coming over by then, pulling up
handfuls of weeds, bringing sticks and bits of paper,

laying them in gently, offering them to something
still hidden deep down inside the drum.
They will all form a circle, their hands almost

touching, sparks rising through their fingers,
their faces bright, their bodies darkened by smoke,
by flakes of ash swirling around them in the wind.