I Can Wonder Anything by Terence Degnan

 

Terence Degnan is the real thing–a streetwise philosopher whose poems ring with music, rough wisdom, and wry humor. They don’t “guardrail” or snowflake with us;” and there’s “no need to doctorate around.” The speaker here–“born with eyes too wide/ sworn to an Irish secrecy”–is both emphatic and questioning, professing to “regret almost everyone,” while asserting “in me is born a great empathy.” Indeed. Degnan strikes such a fine balance between grit and grace, it kind of hurts. It’s the good kind of hurt you should run out and read.

–Tina Cane, “Poet Laureate of Rhode Island”, author of Body of Work and Year of The Murder Hornet

 

 

Poet Bob Holman says of Terence Degnan’s work, “What a delight to read Terence Degnan! It’s like reading the World. No, it’s like the World is reading to you.” Poet Laureate of Rhode Island, Tina Cane, writes of Degnan’s new book, “Terence Degnan is the real thing–a streetwise philosopher whose poems ring with music, rough wisdom, and wry humor. Degnan strikes such a fine balance between grit and grace, it kind of hurts. It’s the good kind of hurt you should run out and read. Playwright Erin Courtney writes, “Great poetry has a sense of humor, a deep love of the world, and an in-the-moment-go-for-broke understanding of mortality. Terence Degnan‘s poetry fulfills all of these delirious requirements. The language crackles, sparks and flies when you read it out loud.” 

Terence Degnan’s third Book,I Can Wonder Anything, will be published by Finishing Line Press in 2023 & is available for preorder now.  

Read a few excerpts from his new work here:

from Watching the Cryptographers

sibling means connected by tragedies

but if you want to be less hyperbolic

it can also mean sign language

and translator

and oftentimes ceremony

so, to have a sibling 

means to have a quiet ceremony

from Hitchhiking to Canaan

I make mention 

of every village

as its first brick is placed beside its sibling

and when I pray I ask the towns 

be stricken from their interstates

and tunnels from the mountains

and when I’m brave

I hold my breath

as explosions carve an artery

through my belly

and inside the passing homes

receivers are stripped 

from their blurry telephones