Comic and sober by turns, these poems ask us what is sufficient, what will suffice?
... a mandrill, a middle-aged woman, a shattered Baghdad neighborhood, a long marriage, even a spoon, grapple with this unanswerable conundrum -- sometimes with rage, or plain persistence, sometimes with the furious joy of a dog who gets to ride with his head through a truck's passenger window. Julie Bruck's third book of poetry is a brilliant and unusual blend of pathos and play, of deep seriousness and wildly veering humor.
I'm glad that poetry is an art of words and everyone who reads them interprets them differently. Some will like it, and some will not. With this selection, I fall into the latter category sadly. Most of the poems just didn't make any sense to me. I would often feel the flow and then part way through, would begin to get lost and wonder why the ease of the rose stopped.
The was literally one poem in the whole thing that I sort-of liked, Emily Bishop's Room. Even this one I felt it was unfinished. I guess in the end, it didn't really work for me either....
Since poetry is so widely interpreted, I hope my not liking it doesn't deter you if you are interested. You may think the complete opposite to me.
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