Poetry, Literature 

In The Choreographer, Gerald Fleming travels across continents and time with an eye that sees beyond the visible and an ear that hears music both real and imagined. In piece after piece, the ordinary world opens to reveal the marvelous in all its dimensions and variety. From a violin that sounds "like needlework in the air" to a man of granite who is suddenly covered with skin that allows him to move "so much more quickly, more quietly than in the land of stone," Fleming makes the reader see with language as supple as it is precise and clear. In "Sephardic Airs: Variations," the author creates a narrative of love and loss so lyrical and intense that the words themselves turn to music. The title poem of this book introduces us to a man who at last understands that all his life had been choreography for his funeral. But the real choreography at work in this collection is Fleming's: his words dance with wit and passion, and, like the couple in "Pasencore," we want an encore, again and again. - from Amzon