Winner of the Vassar Miller Prize in Poetry, 2010.
The poems in Circles Where the Head Should Be are full of objects and oddities, bits of news, epic catalogues, and a cast of characters hoping to make sense of it all. Underneath the often whimsical surface, however, lies a search for those connections we long for but so often miss, and a wish for art to bridge the gaps. Circles Where the Head Should Be has its own distinctive voice, a lively intelligence, insatiable curiosity, and a decided command of form. These qualities play off one another in ways that instruct and delight. An irresistible book.”—J. D. McClatchy, author of Mercury Dressing: Poems, judge Storm and Stress That a spider web supports a bead of rain is as significant as rain’s resolve, poised where some spinneret has pitched its threads aslant, since, held or holding, each endures a strain— one presses, one reacts. Don’t ask me what it’s worth. Despite the facts of matter’s favored states, such concentration’s of no consequence beyond this life, a net tailored to break, too late for recompense when weight evaporates.
I find most books of poetry to be inconsistent. Very rarely do I connect with the majority of the poems in a collection. And I doubt that anyone ever connects with every poem in a collection. SO with that being said I'm not going to lie and say I loved every poem in this collection because when the missed boy dig they miss with me. But when they hit they sure did hit. I'll be sure to keep an eye on Caki Wilkinson.
A fun book (although I have to note here that several of the poems have serious undertones) of poetic form and invented poetic form. Caki Wilkinson is a poet to watch!
Caki is my friend, so I'm biased. But I do think these poems are objectively really really good: funny and distinctive and innovative. She does things with prosody I've never seen before, e.g. placing the peace and love symbols together in a parenthetical to create a spondee, or making a heroic couplet out of an invented word's definition: "logosasphyxiation (n): the act / of drowning in the sense one sought, but lacked." These are just tiny examples, but they come in poems that are varied and ambitious and smart, some of them metaphysical discourse, some of them eloquent social critique. I'd recommend it to anyone.
I love Wilkinson's mix of sharp wit and timeless observations of normal, small town life. The author has a strong 2 statement form and often kills it with the last line. I especially liked Girl Under Bug Zapper, Involution, Felix Culpa and Dead Matter.