By Kerri Webster
Grand & Arsenal starts “Bless me it's not that i am myself,” however it isn't really lengthy prior to the chance of being blessed is published to be as distant because the notion of a complete self. therefore starts off the book’s defining fight, enacted by means of a mess of voices which circulate from rush to stumble and again again—meanwhile utilizing all of the instruments we as a tradition use to carry worry at arm’s length.
We pay attention a well-known irony, as in “On a visit West, porn within the resort room. i will take or go away it. The climax that places me within the seats? World’s end.” We listen humor, as in “I believed in . . . / . . . a undeniable apocalypse now not lots foretold as crafted / by means of large-brained monkeys.” We pay attention understatement, as in “knowing it doesn't topic / within the grand—she could say scheme, i'd say / mishap—.” most significantly, even though, those poems enable for the fleeting triumph of an undefended voice, which looks usually to emerge tentatively from a type of exhausted collapse.
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Grand & Arsenal (Iowa Poetry Prize) by Kerri Webster