About
Public Poetry, Kevin Walzer's meditations on poetry, publishing, business, and other creative pursuits
Your Host
Kevin Walzer, a poet, poetry publisher, husband, and father.
Subscribe to RSS Feed
Get a syndicated feed of my weblog.
Archives
2011
2010
2009
2008
2007
2006
Categories
Books
Business
Poetry
Publishing
Fri, 26 Jan 2007
Book of the Day: Natural Forms by Dana Sonnenschein
Dana Sonnenschein's Natural Forms is a well-named book: the poet takes the natural world of her subject, and renders its forms with an almost tactile grace. Both visually and sonically, Sonnenschein's poems are a pleasure for the reader.
"The Memory Horses" is one such example:
The Memory Horses
The horses in the pasture behind the house
never seemed to belong to anyone.
They came, big as gods, to the fence
every afternoon and stared back at me,
blinking away flies, knocking the wood
with a hoof now and then.
I knew to hold my hand flat
when offering them grass, to stand
perfectly still and let the hot breath
and whispery lips pass, as if there were
nothing, over my palms, and to move
around them as if no horses
were there, the way the shadows
moved around the pine trees.
The memory horses, brown and buckskin,
still bump their bony foreheads
against my shoulders, offering the softest
spot to touch, the stretch between
flickering nostrils and ears.
There is a gap behind their teeth
where the bit lies easily,
and they cannot feel my hands
in their manes when I mount.
Because they have never left the pasture,
because they barely change the grass
they live on, the memory horses still pass
through the world, invisible, and gallop,
evenings, as if there were no shadows,
as if the world were not there,
moving carefully, painfully around them.
"The memory horses, brown and buckskin,/still bump their bony foreheads/against my shoulders, offering the softest/spot to touch." In Sonnenschein's lines, these horses are alive, physically present, nuzzling, their actions embodied by Sonnenschein's skillful use of sound.
Book of the Day: Pascal's Other Wager by Rush Rankin
Rush Rankin's poems are not easy to read. By turns discursive, narrative and historical, they explore complex themes in an indirect way. I found myself drawn in by the chatty, witty discourse of Rankin's speakers in his new book, Pascal's Other Wager. As I read, what unfolded for me beneath the poems' smooth surface irony was a gracious love of the world. Consider "Yet Another God in Mexico":
Yet Another God
in Mexico
Frayed palm trees surround
the white hotel fronting
the beach. The couple
passing by is old enough
to admire and savor
a consoling picture
of sadness. Large boats,
turned over to dry
on the sand, resemble
dead whales, whose ribs
shine in the darkness.
*
Of course, the real victims
of history must adopt
a new religion. Ghosts
float like dust in the shadows,
in the chapel, as tourists
watch modest people
kneel down to pray.
*
At the market a morose Indian
tries to protect her face
from his camera, which breaks,
thus pleasing his companion,
who admires real-life magic
and women who frown.
*
Of course, the real
victims of history succumb
to more than just
a new religion. Mexico,
too far from God,
they say, and too near
the United States.
*
Dazed American hippies
on the sidewalk sell beads
to the surfers laughing
and playing together
like seals. Waving
off every plea, the slippery
smiles, the couple leaves.
*
Of course, they're old enough
to admire and savor
a consoling picture
of sadness. Large boats,
turned over to dry
on the sand, resemble
dead whales, whose ribs
shine in the darkness.
Dense, allusive, and leisurely, Rankin's poems do not reward casual reading--but they do reward sustained attention.