Poetry Magazine January 2020 by Don Share

Poetry Magazine January 2020 Reviews

• 
  Angie

  I’ve subscribed to this for quite a long time, and this is the first time I’ve tried reading it cover to cover. Overall a good experience. As I’ve always found, many of the poems are misses for me, but some are very big hits! That for me, is the way of poetry. Some of the longer works that I didn’t find interesting at the beginning, I didn’t finish, including the essay. One longer piece that I really liked was, John Wilkinson’s “Marsyas Back in the Day.” I didn’t really understand it, but I liked it!
• 
  Erin Ferguson

  My sweet friend Maddie got us a year subscription to Poetry Magazine so we can do a monthly poetry book club (i.e. catch up, but also read more poetry!). Frankly, dense poetry makes me feel stupid. So, I didn't enjoy every poem in this collection. My favorites included: "Runaway" by Jorie Graham, "june 8, the smiley barista remembers my name" by Wo Chan, and "ted talk" by Jenny Zhang. I'm excited to read more poetry and become less stupid!
• 
  Jen

  This month just didn't work for me. Too many poems that were complete misses for me.
• 
  Stephanie

  Man, I did not like this issue as much as others I have read. A few poems (of dozens) I thought were fantastic. The rest sounded...pretentious, maybe? I can't quite put my finger on it, but these poems seemed to be focused on words and how words sounded with other words...which is not my jam and made me feel like I was seeing the words on the page but the poems made no sense, just word jumbles.
• 
  Abby Libby

  I love poetry, and I love smart poetry, but the majority of the selections in this collection were obtuse, and I struggled to connect with most of them.
• 
  Jesse Field

  I read poetry on my walk to school now; it makes the whole day feel a little better to get some poems in before any of the mundane tasks of work start. When I started nearing the end of the January 2020 issue of Poetry magazine, I got the urge to lay down a few notes about the experience of this little gem of a magazine, which more and more I feel is a sustaining, steadying force on the mind, even when the poems dramatize the sturm und drang of our frightening prose universe. I’m thinking first and foremost of two works by Jorie Graham in the issue, especially “Runaway,” which presents in queer ritual form the language of our political economy, our authoritarianism, our environmental…situation?

  …We stand
  
  around, we have the
  sensation we
  dreamed the whole
  
  thing up, we
  didn’t, & all
  around us how alive
  
  rot is, & damp that
  never ceases kissing
  everything in-
  
  discriminately—yr
  hands, yr skin fixed to
  fit everywhere tight,
  
  yr lids holding yr
  gaze, the rubble, the
  anti-microbial skins,
  
  the layers of cello-
  phane….

  I admit, I didn’t really take Graham’s short, airy lines too seriously before, but I either I totally missed the point (likely), or else she speaks with an increased intensity that aligns with my own now (also a possibility). The short line contains its own, abbreviated propulsiveness, gently shoving us through the recounting of our “new data-sets,” and giving us — is this a requirement of the highest art? — little to no comfort in the closure.
  
  I thought to myself to note my “top five” for this issue. Certainly, the theme of environment can make drive a poem to the head of the line. “Lapwing,” by Hannah Copley is a gorgeous mix of historic and contemporary — an epigraph by John Gower, 1330-1408) is followed by lines by Kendrik Lamar. A slam- or hip-hop style parallelism remains taut and, to me at least, just short of annoying:

  Otherwise known as peewit, otherwise known
  as tew-it, otherwise known as Vanellus vanillas
  of the family Charadriidae, otherwise known as
  plain old happy nestling itself in the till, otherwise
  known as diver found in its down in the center
  of some middle-of-nowhere, otherwise known as
  wailer, otherwise known as waverer, as imp,
  liar, as shrill green sky, as wader of the marsh,
  slope, as flock, as Tereus turned and heckling
  the cows, otherwise known as crown prince,
  as crest, as sharp throat, as hare, otherwise known
  as zigzag, soaring, dizzy, otherwise known as lost.

  
  There is so much humor and pathos here, with such strong narrative, that although it's one of the longest poems, I didn’t in the least grow tired of it. Copley is just getting a first collection out — maybe worth a look? I wonder if it will be issued as an e-book.
  
  Destiny Hemphill’s “how we got our blues-tongue” employs the long lines, participial-peppered, of Whitman, and almost too much alliteration (‘decadent deluge of dirge drenching skin, dandelions, & dirt.’ Also note, the ampersand is very popular these days). Oh, I see now the lines form the letters of the alphabet. Acrostic poetry in Poetry!
  
  Su Cho’s “A Little Cheonyeo Gwishin Appears in My Kitchen” was fun the first time through, with its Korean cooking motifs (Koreans don’t really soak dried kelp in the trash, right? I love that I’m not sure). I thought the Gwishin was her mother, though that is evidently not right. Googling “Cheonyeo Gwishin” answers some questions, but raises others. Another young poet worth keeping tabs on.
  
  “Lack” by Christopher Spaide, takes on consumerism, a theme which, like the environment, only grows more significant and interesting with time.

  Hating having, hating having not, you’re screwed
  
  on both ends, like the first and last fastener of the IKEA
  
  LACK side table — a clean, Cartesian idea
  
  of carpentry….

  Enjambment eschewing capitalization is de rigeur. When did that happen? Spaide requires the wide line-spacing. More like an instruction set? Clean, Cartesian? Lines of lack? Yes.
  
  “A Talisman” by Christopher Phelps is an etymological exploration — Talisman, tailor, details; talea, talah, talis. Thalma, goddess of youth. Love the mix of language and mythology! The author is a math teacher in New Mexico. Fascinating.
  
  “Fairy Tale with Laryngitis and Resignation Letter” by Jehanne Dubrow captures my emotional state very well (don’t tell my supervisors, yet), and I love cross-cut narrative poetry.
  
  Finally, Christian Wiman, the previous editor of the magazine, features three poems about aging. (Does Don Share reject any work from his old boss? That must be interesting and awkward.) I sympathize with his tension between humor and cries, belief and cynicism, and indulgence in jovial word play. “I’m the Apocalypse’s popsicle. I’m a licked Christian.” He’s lots of fun, and I do think I’d like to read his poems and memoirs.
  
  Also interesting: A. R. Ammons did weirdly talented abstract watercolors, now on display at the Poetry offices in Chicago. The one with the skull thing is disturbing. The one with three columns would make a great screen background for my iPad. Is that cheap to think? A short review essay marks new letters by Elizabeth Hardwick, a worthy writer with the dramatic distinction of having married Robert Lowell — somebody call Meryl Streep, we have movie material here!
• 
  Erika Dreifus

  My last full read of 2019.
• 
  Stewart Lindstrom

  Christian Wiman's work in particular was exquisite.
• 
  Erick Mertz

  Another excellent issue of poetry magazine.