[REVIEW] at first & then by Danielle Rose

(Black Lawrence Press, 2021)

REVIEW BY GABINO IGLESIAS

Danielle Rose’s at first & then opens with a few lines from LIFE published in 1947. A couple of lines into the poem that stars under those lines, Rose pulls that suicide and her own life together, weaving a narrative across time in the way only poetry can:

“like me she wanted to disappear?

i have too many of my mother’s tendencies?

perhaps she nervously tapped her foot?

was no fun at parties and did not understand?

that she was not actually broken”

The dark, enigmatic aura of that opening poem is perfectly matched by the following one, which is titled “aleister crowley summoned demons & all i get is this tarot telling me i am always in the wrong.” Despite the humorous title, the poem isn’t funny and once again mentions Rose’s mother. Just like in these two poems, darkness, death, and the self quickly emerge as strong cohesive elements in the collection, and the resulting poetry is often sharp and memorable because it reveals the poet as the shifting, complex center of everything.

at first & then, which won the Fall 2019 Black River Chapbook Competition, deals with trauma, grief, and gender, but always through Rose’s lens, which makes everything feel like a study in identity and a personal confession. The body is present here, a flawed, wonderful thing full of bones, secrets, and desires:

“tell me i am like the sky / & lie to me / tell me i am expansive & clear / i need to hear that joyful clouds reach their hands into my chest / because i can feel them inside of me / storming / telling me i am pretty when i smile / i want to be a set of cascading conditions / like a logical proof or the way i am always sneaking away from my fear / tell me i am prettier when i smile / tell me / become a cloud & tell me that when i am pretty / it is impossible to be so empty”

This chapbook is a tiny gem in which the heavy themes of some of the poems balance perfectly with the wit and humor of some of the titles. For example, “on walking outside with my morning coffee at 9:00 am to find my new neighbors fucking like cottontails in their backyard” is a title that’s hard to forget. The same goes for the poem itself, in which Rose dreams of catching said neighbors in a jar and keeping the there so they can do their thing “against a snapped twig.”

In many ways, at first & then is a journey of transformation, but one that follows no map. Here, grief, trauma, and keen observations reveal the change, but the change itself, while always at the core, never overpowers anything else. These are poems about transformation, becoming, and emergence, but they don’t tackle those subjects in any cliché ways. Instead, each line holds something new, and sometimes that new thing is a powerful revelation: “i am a queer body that was hidden inside a different queer body.” These lines, more then words on the page, feel like the extricated veins of a person who performed poetry surgery on themselves.

Rose’s knack for dictating rhythm and the depth of her writing make at first & then an impressive debut, and hopefully one that announces the arrival of a great new poetic voice with much more to say. 

Gabino Iglesias is a writer, editor, literary critic, and professor living in Austin, TX. He is the author of ZERO SAINTS and COYOTE SONGS. You can find him on Twitter at @Gabino_Iglesias.

[REVIEW] A Complex Accident of Life by Jessica McHugh

(Sparrow Poetry, 2020)

REVIEW BY GABINO IGLESIAS

Jessica McHugh’s A Complex Accident of Life is complex, but it’s no accident. Inspired by Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, McHugh created a series of Gothic blackout poems. However, the book includes a “clean” version of each poem as well as images of the original pages she used, which clearly show the markings, ink, colors, and different approaches. The juxtaposition is visually engaging and reveals the artist at work. The result is a collection of short poems about a plethora of topics that quickly reveals itself as an objet d’art.

The interesting thing about having images of the original pages next to the end result of McHugh’s work is that readers get to see the words as they originally appeared in Shelley’s work and then can read the hidden poetry McHugh revealed by slicing away the “extra” words that were hiding it. This way, a page of Shelley’s work transforms into something new that carries a its own meaning:

“I am a vessel of dauntless courage

And severe evil.?

My joy will endeavor,?

My rage possess.”

According to the author’s note that kicks off the collection, McHugh originally made a few blackout poems to give away or sell. This means that, more than blackout, the pages she worked on were carefully colored and drawn on to reveal the poem within. In A Complex Accident of Life, there is plenty or color, patterns, curlicues, and drawings that go from smooth and organic (like the one for A Blessed House, which resembled a close-up of a cluster of colorful cells) to blocky blackout (although the color used to cover text is never black) with words trapped in tiny rectangles. From time to time, the blackout process is so clearly a work or art that it presents readers with a recognizable image. For example, “A Kind of Pleasure” shows a raging storm at sea, complete with dark clouds, roiling waves, and lightning bolts in the sky.

Perhaps the best thing about blackout poetry is the way it reveals not only a secret that was always on that page but also the personality and taste of the poet plucking out those special words. Reading the poems in A Complex Accident of Life isn’t reading chunks of Shelley’s work; it’s reading McHugh’s voice. “It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishments of my toils,” writes Shelley. Here, dreary, night, and toils could offer an easy start, but McHugh picked November, and the result is a poem that shares the collection’s title and perfectly exemplifies how the poet’s voice is at the center here, even if the source material is Shelley’s work:

“November was half-extinguished,

A dull yellow eye?

Within I endeavoured to form,

Beautiful and horrid,

A complex accident of life.”

Themes abound in this collection, but they all carry the dark, gloomy atmosphere of Gothic literature. Darkness, wounds, monsters, and “quiet misery” can be found in this pages, but the poems are so short that recurring themes never get boring. McHugh received a Bram Stoker Award nomination for this collection, and it’s easy to see why: A Complex Accident of Life is a monster born of the pieces of another monster, all carefully rearranged and brought to life by McHugh. I hope she tackles another classic soon.

Gabino Iglesias is a writer, editor, literary critic, and professor living in Austin, TX. He is the author of ZERO SAINTS and COYOTE SONGS. You can find him on Twitter at @Gabino_Iglesias.

[REVIEW] Now We’re Getting Somewhere by Kim Addonizio

(W.W. Norton & Company, 2021)

REVIEW BY GABINO IGLESIAS

Some poetry collections feel impersonal, as if the poet is on some kind of pensive examination of something and the reader is just along for the ride, a witness more than a participant in a conversation. Kim Addonizio’s Now We’re Getting Somewhere is the opposite of that. The writing in this collection is personal, but it also feels like a conversation, like Addonizio is talking to you, bringing you into her world, sharing her thoughts the way a friend would, over coffee or beer or from under their covers.

The beauty of Now We’re Getting Somewhere comes from its ugliness. I know what you’re thinking, but stay with me. Here’s the opening line of “Song for Sad Girls”: “Right now I feel like a self-cleaning microwave about to malfunction.” Bizarre. Brutal. Honest. Strangely relatable. She goes on:

“Sad girls, sad girl, you’re everywhere. Sick on the snake oil

of romance. Blundering in and out of beds

and squabbles with roommates. Scalded by raindrops.

Hating yourselves with such pure hatred.

Loving the music that makes it worse. This is that music.”

That music, the rhythms of doubt, the strident cacophony of self-hatred, permeates the collection. Addonizio creates a world where the real is always present. Drinking, rehab, heartbreak, loneliness; they’re all here, time and again, presented in a unique voice that somehow reminds us how universal that darkness is. “I never learn from my mistakes,” says Addonizio, and neither do we, but if the result of that is personal poetry like this, then I say the best thing we can do is keeping fucking up.

There are no weak poems in Now We’re Getting Somewhere, but the segment titled Confessional Poetry could easily be called its crowning jewel. In the short lines that make up that segment, Addonizio obliterates everything about confessional writing while simultaneously offering some of her own, which goes to show that some things are inescapable: Of confessional writing, she says:

“Writing it is like firing a nail gun into the center of a vanity mirror

or slowly shaking a souvenir snow-globe of asbestos & shame

to quiet an imaginary baby”

The darkness in this collection is oppressive because Addonizio knows how to remind readers about bad feelings. In “Archive of Recent Uncomfortable Emotions, we get a laundry list of them: the “however much I drink I can’t pretend it’s love feeling,” the “everything I write is shit feeling,” and the “my friends are no longer my friends feeling,” hit especially hard for me, but there is something in there for everyone.

Despite that darkness, there is plenty or light. No, wait; maybe I should say the light that can be found here is concentrated in a way that its strength is like that of a laser beam. While there is plenty of humor and brilliant lines, two of them will stick with readers like tiny, positive remoras clinging to their ribs. The first comes at the end of “To the Woman Crying Uncontrollably in the Next Stall”: “listen I love you joys is coming.” Short, but sharp and meaningful. The second slice of light closes the collection, and it packs so much that anything I said after it would be useless, so it also closes this review. This line is for you:

“Listen: when a stranger steps into the elevator with a bouquet of white roses not meant for you,

they’re meant for you.”

Gabino Iglesias is a writer, editor, literary critic, and professor living in Austin, TX. He is the author of ZERO SAINTS and COYOTE SONGS. You can find him on Twitter at @Gabino_Iglesias.

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

 

DILDON’T

 

http://metro.co.uk/2015/04/26/remember-your-loved-one-by-putting-their-ashes-in-a-dildo-5168393/

 

Your lover can fuck you beyond the grave.
I’m just going to put this here:
a widow has needs. If you crave
your lover’s dick, from beyond the grave
his ash is yours, forever your slave
encapsulated in plastic gear.
I can fuck myself beyond his grave –
I’m just going to put this here.

 

***

hauthorpicHeidi Czerwiec is a poet, essayist, translator, and critic who teaches at the University of North Dakota and is poetry editor at North Dakota Quarterly. She is the author of three chapbooks, including Self-Portrait as Bettie Page, and the forthcoming A Is For A-ké, The Chinese Monster. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Waxwing, and Able Muse, and you can visit her at heidiczerwiec.com

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

TWO SHADES OF GREY

 

I. Dear Mr. Grey:

All new lovers need to learn restraint.
Unless it’s sexy fun, you’re doing it wrong.
Your Red Room of Pain may make me faint
with desire: all lovers could use some restraint,
someone to show the ropes, the cuffs, the quaint
trappings of bondage, to come on strong.
But while all lovers need to learn some restraint,
your controlling lack of fun is doing it wrong. Continue reading

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

WHAT CAN BROWN DO FOR YOU?

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/11/29/3d-print-sex-toys-ups_n_6240784.html?utm_hp_ref=weird-sex

 

UPS redefines package delivery:
betting if you build it, they will come,
they’re providing a new service (for a fee).
UPS redesigns package delivery,
equipping 100 of their stores with 3D
printers (used to make sex toys by some,
but then, UPS defines “package delivery”).
If you build it, they will come.

 

***

hauthorpicHeidi Czerwiec is a poet, essayist, translator, and critic who teaches at the University of North Dakota and is poetry editor at North Dakota Quarterly. She is the author of three chapbooks, including Self-Portrait as Bettie Page, and the forthcoming A Is For A-ké, The Chinese Monster. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Waxwing, and Able Muse, and you can visit her at heidiczerwiec.com

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

VALENTINE’S DAY BREAK-IN AT FUNERAL HOME

http://www.ledger-enquirer.com/2015/02/13/3564129_homeless-man-charged-with-necrophilia.html?rh=1

I like how we don’t need to talk.
Sometimes sex just leaves you cold,
you know? And women usually mock
how I don’t really want to talk,
but you, I’d place on a catafalque.
There’s not a lot who fill your mold.
I like how you don’t ever talk.
Sometimes sex just leaves you cold.

 

***

hauthorpicHeidi Czerwiec is a poet, essayist, translator, and critic who teaches at the University of North Dakota and is poetry editor at North Dakota Quarterly. She is the author of three chapbooks, including Self-Portrait as Bettie Page, and the forthcoming A Is For A-ké, The Chinese Monster. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Waxwing, and Able Muse, and you can visit her at heidiczerwiec.com

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

ONLY CONNECT

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/hook-up-apps/

 

With the newest, latest App
there’s many ways to make a connection:
with Tinder, Grinder, and 3nder, you’ll tap
(with the newest, latest App)
every horny lovelorn on the digital map,
and with Hulu, proof you’re free of infection.
Without the newest, latest App,
how’d we ever make a Basic connection?

 

***

hauthorpicHeidi Czerwiec is a poet, essayist, translator, and critic who teaches at the University of North Dakota and is poetry editor at North Dakota Quarterly. She is the author of three chapbooks, including Self-Portrait as Bettie Page, and the forthcoming A Is For A-ké, The Chinese Monster. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Waxwing, and Able Muse, and you can visit her at heidiczerwiec.com

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

 

PATRIOT ACT

 

Acts of congress are necessary
to preserve the perfect union intact.
So why do some folks, so contrary,
think Acts of Congress are necessary
to mandate who may pair off, marry?
Listen: we the people fuck;
these acts of congress are necessary
to preserve the perfect union intact.

 

***

hauthorpicHeidi Czerwiec is a poet, essayist, translator, and critic who teaches at the University of North Dakota and is poetry editor at North Dakota Quarterly. She is the author of three chapbooks, including Self-Portrait as Bettie Page, and the forthcoming A Is For A-ké, The Chinese Monster. Recent work appears or is forthcoming in Barrow Street, Waxwing, and Able Muse, and you can visit her at heidiczerwiec.com

MÉNAGE À TRIOLETS, by Heidi Czerwiec

A [PANK] Blog guest series for National Poetry Month

 

I’m a poet with a confession to make: I love writing in form. I know that seems conservative and tame, but verse can actually be quite subversive. I love the way the language presses up against the constraints of form’s corset, the heat it produces. As I’ve written elsewhere:

 …I prefer restriction in my diction,
meter’s mastery, the subtle friction
of stress at work, the language modified.
You would not imagine how straight-laced
I am, inside my bedroom, verse encased.

For my April guest column, I offer you a series of triolets about interesting sex titbits in the news. The triolet is a French tickler of a repeating form that’s like a compressed villanelle, a fun amuse-bouche for these short-takes on recent risqué events. Enjoy! Continue reading