Hush – Review

Hush

by Anne Stone (Insomniac Press 160 pp. $14.99)
by Thomas Christian

Hush is a dandelion blowtorch. It is all the beauty, cynicism, desire of a sensuous poison. It is poet Shelley wrenching dreams from the tears of a seventeenth-century corpse. It is shame. Prophecy. Bourbon and Roses.

Hush is the holy mother, ripped on boilermakers and pointing to heaven.

Hush is the plush satiny doll that whispers obscenities in your ear.

Hush is a divining rod scraping burgundy streams into an absinthean sky.

Hush is long, wet kisses received from the one with the trust-me eyes and heavily disguised razorblade lips.