At last, the new poetry collection by Annharte (Marie Baker). With an oddly constructed blurb by Mercedes Eng:
Nice to see an appreciation for the "wry" in these literal, face value times. A time when grief and confession now dominate Poetry, moving it closer to the Non-Fiction section than "to" an atmosphere of proprioceptive decentralization, abstraction, leap of from faith imagination ...
Mercedes use of the words "gut punch" to describe the effect of Miskwagoode is not the first time I have seen these words used to describe the effects of poetry (on the body) of late. Suddenly this pairing is everywhere. Like violence is everywhere, particularly amongst those who claim to be dead set against it.
Details like this -- the absent use of violence in our language -- is partly why I have come to appreciate Annharte's writing. Nothing gets past her, and she always always always delivers.
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