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eBook Category: Science Fiction/Fantasy
eBook Description: Forty-five poems, a mix of SF, fantasy, and horror. Reprints from Asimov's SF, Weird Tales, Dark Regions, The Leading Edge, Fantasy Commentator, etc. Includes the 1993 Rhysling winner "Spacer's Compass." Note: Two poems from this collection appear in Sensuous Debris, also available from Fictionwise.

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: 1993
Fictionwise Release Date: August 2003

8 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [167 KB], eReader (PDB) [52 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [25 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [28 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [87 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [99 KB], hiebook (KML) [93 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [112 KB], iSilo (PDB) [22 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [27 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [73 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [47 KB]
Words: 6705
Reading time: 19-26 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"... an etymological treasure chest that Boston, here as in all his work, plunges his hand in to the shoulder, retrieving multifaceted jewels ... these poems span twenty-five years, yet even the weakest attain a consistently high level of quality."--Terry McGarry, Star*Line

"Bruce Boston is one of the four or five authentic voices currently writing speculative poetry. His work is consistently well-drafted, imaginative, innovative in language and line, tough and consistent."--Michael R. Collings, SFRA Review

"Diamond-bright writing from a quicksilver mind, offers metaphors to startle, uncanny visions to beguile--the conceptual irradiation reaches danger level!"--Tony Lee, Dragon's Breath

"...a virtual treasure trove of uncollected verse that spans well over two decades of this prolific writer's career.... A lot of poets can show me the world we live in easily enough, but nobody can take me to The Beyond like Boston."--Richard Levesque, Scavenger's Newsletter

KITE MAN KINEMATIC

The kite man rides
the nape of the wind
before the storm,
trailing swirls
of dark cumuli
like a thunderous cape,
swallowing draughts of sky.

Flexible as avian bones,
the struts and pinions
of his intricate contrivance
believe for the moment
they are lighter than air.
His moire of radiant silk
billows and ripples,
snaps and billows again.

Far beneath him
he sees the shadow play
of lengthening clouds
race his own solo shadow
as it crumples and dips
across the topographical
inflections of the world.

Seamed yet unbounded
the countryside unravels:
a patchwork of rivers,
forests and fields,
a ragged crosshatching
of fences and roads,
distant cities illuminated
by the lights at dusk.

By the time droplets
have darkened the earth
in a quickening rush,
a weary kite man
rests by the fire's roar,
sipping mulled wine
from a steaming stein,
raising the chill
from his weathered bones.

Yet the thrills
that still plumb
the depths of his chest
and strum along his thighs,
tell him he is truly
a creature born
for the art of flight.