What is at the core of Tracy Zeman’s debut poetry collection is the understanding and articulation of the links between things—between flora and fauna, sediments, barns, fossils, graveyards, and violent events traceable in the landscape and memory.
Deeply rooted in Black feminist discourse, Metta Sáma’s second full-length book of poetry is part of a line of historical poetics—part documentary, part interpretative—that refuses to distinguish between the horrors of the past and their ongoing inflections in the present.
The question of a collection whose various subjects are assembled, rather than logically produced, is less what they have in common; it is instead what they make in common.
The activity of thinking, with its accidental sparkings and discursive connections, propels Pimone Triplett through the sonically dense occasional poems that make up her 2017 collection, in which she repurposes some of poetry’s perhaps more conservative elements—form and tradition—to radically reoriented ends.
More often than not, Levertov claimed she was not whichever appellation had come to her doorstep. But her objections have more to do with the consequences of public identity than her actual political orientation, which was a lifelong commitment to poetry as but one form of protest.