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Posts Tagged ‘Suzanne O’Connell Nude Descending A Staircase Without Laundry’


Magazines like this represent a deep dive into the U.S. poetry scene. Hundreds, if not thousands of poets speak out in the small press, a groundswell of metaphor and insight. Many of these poets will burst out into wider view soon, if history is prologue. ;->

Laurie Sewall’s contribution to The Cape Rock is “The Last Temples Left,” which starts, “My soul appeared to me as a giant — legs long / as the Hudson… I wasn’t ready / for this.” Great fun. A poem about things lost, things altered, with an amused voice.

Paula Brancato muses about all the stuff her ex-boyfriends have left behind, in “The Ex-Boyfriend Drawer.” “a man’s tie behind my sofa… a man’s belt under my bed.” She is bemused by where all these things show up, how they got there, and what is to be done with them. “It’s not like I can call each man / and ask, ‘did you lose a tie…'” In the end, she does find a happy resolution.

Suzanne O’Connell has great fun in “Nude Descending A Staircase Without Laundry.” “I wish he would wait, / just once, / at the bottom landing. / I’d glide down the stairs… No squirmy infant under my arm.” Ah, the jarring dissonance between romance and reality! “I would take my time, / head held high.” A joyful work.

In “The Beavers At Rehab,” Nathan Graziano explores the power of distraction to help us weather tough times. “the counselors led us / down a hiking path…to observe / the night work the beavers did.” A poem of careful observation and epiphany, as the narrator comes to correlate the tedious work the beavers were doing with the work he has to do himself, and the lessons he can learn. “…those beavers / didn’t need booze to build their goddam dams.” Once again, this poem ends with a laugh, always a good way to finish.

Finally, Adria Klinger gives us a plain-spoken poem about a tough moment, with “Spring And Cancer.” “OMG, it’s Spring again, / and I’m losing my hair from chemo.” We root for the narrator, and wish her well, empathizing with her situation. “I shed hair and cells… until all is laid bare.” A poem of hope and openness.

Peace in poetry,

P M F Johnson

My eBook of poems, Against The Night, a sweet, rueful look at love in a long marriage, is available on Amazon, and at other fine e-retailers.

Related blog posts:

Apple Valley Review – Spring 18

The New Yorker – Apr 2 2018

Convergence – Winter 2017

 

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