Ebook {Epub PDF} The Other Side of Ourselves by Rob Taylor

“Rob Taylor’s debut collection, The Other Side of Ourselves shows considerable talent and imagination The best of Taylor’s poems are memorably fresh and startling in their simplicity and originality of perspective and approach. ” – Gillian Harding-Russell, Prairie Fire. The Other Side of Ourselves by Rob Taylor, , Cormorant Books edition, Paperback in English. Rob Taylor. Menu. About Me; Books. Strangers; Best Canadian Poetry ; What the Poets are Doing: Canadian Poets in Conversation “Oh Not So Great”: Poems from the Depression Project; The News; The Other Side of Ourselves; The Other Side of Ourselves: “The Slave Castle of Elmina”.

Look at the Other Side! So dumb and unable to see this the way I do! It's a preference to see the Other Side as a cardboard cut out, and not the complicated individual human beings that they actually are. Sharing links that mock a caricature of the Other Side isn't signaling that we're somehow more informed. What once looked like a frightening dragon turned out to be the harmless shadow of ourselves. -Rob Levit. Rob Levit is an acclaimed educator, creative artist and community leader. He has created award-winning, innovative "Life-Skills Through The Arts" programs for hundreds of at-risk youth and adults. The Other Side of Ourselves: Poems: Taylor, Rob: Books - bltadwin.ru Skip to main bltadwin.ru Hello Select your address Books Hello, Sign in. Account Lists Account Returns Orders. Cart All. Best Sellers Gift Ideas Prime New.

“Rob Taylor’s debut collection, The Other Side of Ourselves shows considerable talent and imagination The best of Taylor’s poems are memorably fresh and startling in their simplicity and originality of perspective and approach. ” – Gillian Harding-Russell, Prairie Fire. Find many great new used options and get the best deals for The Other Side of Ourselves: Poems by Rob Taylor (, Trade Paperback) at the best online prices at eBay! Free shipping for many products!. Lyric. I am waiting for time to come holding the many days’ sameness inside me fold on fold of invisible stuff that you can’t see and yet piles up.