[REVIEW] Pact-Blood, Fever Grass, by Miriam Bird Greenberg

pact blood

Ricochet Editions

31 pages, $10

Review by Chris Caruso

 

Miriam Bird Greenberg has hitchhiked over ten thousand miles, worked as a deckhand on a catamaran, and is a daughter of a goat raising anthropologist. These life experiences freed her from a topography that defines location and self as fixed and static entities. Her second poetry chapbook, Pact-Blood, Fever Grass, reflects on these themes of location that teeters between the familiar and a visionary quest. I had to sacrifice my belief that I understood the methods of self and place. This collection led me to follow Greenberg and enter her covenant, believing in her powers of divination.

Greenberg plays the role of a backwoods witch, her poems acting as premonitions of what is possible when the constraints of defining are removed. Her poems disrupt the cultural constraints brought about by labeling, and there is a haunting between what is known and what could be known, the plausible and the impossible. “A Problem of Taxonomy” lets a wunderkammer create a “problem/with taxonomy, I tell the kids.” The act of naming and placing what is real against what is fictional allows the logic of sleeping “inside /a cougar to stay warm, or sometimes just a goat/though a cougar is warmer” to exist alongside a grandmother who loved to set off fireworks. The wunderkammer is a box of all possibilities occurring, an unshuffled deck of tarot cards, a potion not yet concocted; it is a device that removes the hierarchy of roles and locations. Within it everything is re-envisioned free of the constraints of defining. Continue reading

The Wilhelm Scream, by Jeremy Behreandt (A Review by Sean Ulman)

Plumberries Press

$5

Jeremy Behreandt’s prose chapbook “The Wilhelm Scream,” an elegant set of ten tarot-sized cards, clasped in a tattooed tissue and tucked in a textured envelope that could very well contain an urgent ancient telegram, is aware of itself.

The story concerns three brothers who “circle the abyss like wolves,” prior to each’s maundering or marauding claims for the city throne. The first brother seems the forerunner for he “makes love like a viper” and the description of his power, “best rendered as a slithering shadow unhinging its jaw on a fabrege egg,” provides a metaphor for usurpation as well as strengthening his symbolic comparison to a snake. Continue reading

Heeldragger, by Chelsea Tadeyeske (A Review by Sean Ulman)

Plumberries Press

32 pgs./$5.00

In Chelsea Tadeyeske’s”Heeldragger,” a pocketful of space-conscious (cautious) punch-packing poetry spliced among collage-carved graphics (stocking’d legs, heels, domestic furnishings, women’s bodies with blank faces that mimic mannequins), the opening canto blots the page like a staircase to a detached basement; a step or two might be sundered or skipped, the descent’s danger dealt sensibly discrete.

“who leaves

laurel-wreathed,

sweat and sparkle

heels in parade

will stump and shove to see

the rising of balloons

the holy animal stroked to transparency”

The second poem is two words footnoting the page’s bottom left corner. The first word is “i,” the other is “possum,” so the reader can delight at the outset in the absurdist shmaltz and schist to follow. Continue reading