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Bad Bad
"Juvenile mockery of poetry and the American poetry establishment, as well as excited reverence for both, are the themes of [Chelsey] Minnis's second collection."— Publishers Weekly "Decadent! Childish! . . . indulgent and melancholy . . . moments of extreme morbidity and anger."—Arielle Greenberg "Her poems take some getting used to."—Robert Strong "Many won't find her . . . acceptable at all...—Cole Swensen
- GenresPoetry
123 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2007
5 people are currently reading
358 people want to read
About the author
Chelsey Minnis
9 books57 followersChelsey Minnis was born in Dallas and grew up in Denver. She attended the University of Colorado at Boulder and the Iowa Writers' Workshop. She is the author of Poemland (Wave Books 2009), Zirconia (Fence Books, 2001), Foxina (Seeing Eye Books, 2002) and Bad Bad (Fence Books, 2007). She lives in Boulder, Colorado.
For more information on this author, go to:
http://www.wavepoetry.com/authors/61-...
For more information on this author, go to:
http://www.wavepoetry.com/authors/61-...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 49 reviews
March 26, 2008
Minnis is partly known for using extended ellipsis in her work. The dots scrawl across the page like fleas looking for blood. They create tension with their silence. Her short spit out lines makes the reader itch but somehow empathize with her cranky tone. Bad Bad is Minnis confronting poetry and the expectations of poems and those who create them. It’s a cathartic cultural bomb.
December 30, 2007
the most irreverent book of poetry I have ever read.... It's so good that I felt compelled to immediately defile it. So I wandered from my point of purchase to the nearest cheap eatery. I procured a taco, smeared the inside of the book in taco juice and licked it off. The gay men at the next table were horrified, but of course they don't really enjoy taco juice now do they. Of course "anyone could paint that," as one goodreads reviewer noted, but how many have dared to so brazenly be such brats. kudos, Minnis, kudos.
October 5, 2008
Ariana Reines once called the sentences of Michel Houellebecq 'sarcophagi.' No one ever wrote sentences more sarcophagic than Chelsey Minnis. In its original mention the description had less to do with the content than the structure—the confining structure—of his sentences. In Minnis's case, whether neurotically or stylistically, she establishes a small, blank set of grammatic structures and iterates them with variable content throughout the book. It is an algebra, and while the variables vary, the formulae are generally inter-referential, if they vary at all.
Yes, the majority of the book is staffed with content designed to escape the straight-jacket of these hyperspecified sentential grammars, but they never escape the prison-house itself. What happens in the book by this mechanism is immense. It ties itself, by sheer insistence, to some imagined inevitability or rudiment of the world. Even at its most flippant the language does this. I'm given to think that the prison of her language is a very specialized neurotic's ward—I'm given to think that her neuroses are in fact her style, rather than the reverse. Though I'm sure I must live there, I can't imagine a world in which someone could engineer a pure unnecessary aesthetic of the gut-unctuousness found here. And the only way I can imagine a user of language to have anchored herself to some kind of underlying motion of the world—that is, to have made the structure of her language itself somehow metaphoric of some outlying biological or ontological structure, is to have been forced into a horrible corner by that structure, and to have developed her language in direct, emergency, battle with that structure, so that the language, the shield and weapon against it, becomes, adapts, is fashioned toward the very contours, toward the overcoming of the contours, of that structure, and so is therefore metaphoric of it, is a reflection, or inversion, even a sub-structure of it.
Robinson Jeffers wrote,
“What but the wolf's tooth whittled so fine
The fleet limbs of the antelope?"
What he missed, and what I argue is happening here, is that the wolf's tooth itself is whittled, in exact degree, by the antelope's limbs, such that they become intermorphic— specifically, mutually, and salutarily shaped and shaping—as all teeth to all food.
This, of course, says nothing of what the book is actually about. Most of it is bad. Amazingly.
The book is a scar against the wound of craft. A pathetic and puerile scar. If she manages to heist her wounded carcass out of the hole of her certifications, she will be, I have no doubt, one of the great ones. Craft is nothing. The book is words spoken by an actual person. The book is made of people, was written under necessity, Rilke's 'must', which is all I've ever asked of one.
Yes, the majority of the book is staffed with content designed to escape the straight-jacket of these hyperspecified sentential grammars, but they never escape the prison-house itself. What happens in the book by this mechanism is immense. It ties itself, by sheer insistence, to some imagined inevitability or rudiment of the world. Even at its most flippant the language does this. I'm given to think that the prison of her language is a very specialized neurotic's ward—I'm given to think that her neuroses are in fact her style, rather than the reverse. Though I'm sure I must live there, I can't imagine a world in which someone could engineer a pure unnecessary aesthetic of the gut-unctuousness found here. And the only way I can imagine a user of language to have anchored herself to some kind of underlying motion of the world—that is, to have made the structure of her language itself somehow metaphoric of some outlying biological or ontological structure, is to have been forced into a horrible corner by that structure, and to have developed her language in direct, emergency, battle with that structure, so that the language, the shield and weapon against it, becomes, adapts, is fashioned toward the very contours, toward the overcoming of the contours, of that structure, and so is therefore metaphoric of it, is a reflection, or inversion, even a sub-structure of it.
Robinson Jeffers wrote,
“What but the wolf's tooth whittled so fine
The fleet limbs of the antelope?"
What he missed, and what I argue is happening here, is that the wolf's tooth itself is whittled, in exact degree, by the antelope's limbs, such that they become intermorphic— specifically, mutually, and salutarily shaped and shaping—as all teeth to all food.
This, of course, says nothing of what the book is actually about. Most of it is bad. Amazingly.
The book is a scar against the wound of craft. A pathetic and puerile scar. If she manages to heist her wounded carcass out of the hole of her certifications, she will be, I have no doubt, one of the great ones. Craft is nothing. The book is words spoken by an actual person. The book is made of people, was written under necessity, Rilke's 'must', which is all I've ever asked of one.
October 15, 2012
Under the guise of writing about poetry, Minnis writes about struggling to engage with the world in a normal way when all you want to do is fight. At the gut level, the book is appealing and agressive. At the head level, the fancy language and page space is distorted through a mechanism and later becomes familiar. I felt like I got invited to a lavish party, the invitation was very pretty but contained some kind of parasite, in the end I didn't mind.
Read
September 27, 2024Sifting through the unholy amount of smut on GR’s when searching “Bad Bad” is an experience I probably won’t have again.
Not bad (bad) (lol) some really cool stuff going on with her personal experience as the “View Of The Poet” what is the role and what is the modern poet to do and say about “I am a poet so this is what it is now” and no longer “thee thy on thy tablecloth of grass and tree, etc. etc.”
Idk. Lots of fucking periods in this one man.
Not bad (bad) (lol) some really cool stuff going on with her personal experience as the “View Of The Poet” what is the role and what is the modern poet to do and say about “I am a poet so this is what it is now” and no longer “thee thy on thy tablecloth of grass and tree, etc. etc.”
Idk. Lots of fucking periods in this one man.
March 11, 2009
5 stars for clown.
July 1, 2008
renews my love of poetry
March 23, 2011
Wry and tender and made me laugh and laugh and cringe. Loved it.
May 2, 2021
Afraid to disappoint you: the title is a lie, this book is good good.
April 24, 2010
Chelsey Minnis’ Bad Bad shows her to be a poet who doesn’t care one bit about other’s opinions of her work, refuses other’s advice and is basically her own critic. This is apparent in the opening lines of preface 1: “People say ‘nothing new’ or ‘the death of the author’ but, I am new and I am not dead. Intellectual, anachronistic, superserious: I’m not going to start crying because ‘experimental’ and I’m not going to start crying because ‘not experimental’…” I believe that in saying this Minnis is refusing to be adversely affected by others’ critiques of her work. Also, in preface 6 she maintains, “I have dismissed all compliments since my mentor’s death.” This seems to blatantly show that Minnis disregards both praise and criticism of her work…unless, that is, it’s self-directed:
“If I am a poet I am the worst kind of poet (4),” and countless other self-depreciations pepper this book. In fact, near the end of the book we’re shown in “Anti-Vitae” that Minnis has recorded many of her failures chronologically from 1984 to 2004. This seems to be a stark contrast to her statement in Preface 1.
She obviously relishes going against the grain and challenging the status quo. She seems to challenge the orthodox motivations of many poets when she writes, in her first preface, “If anyone thinks they need to write reviews, teach classes, edit magazines or translate books in order to write good poetry…then maybe they should just take a rest from it…” We realize to the full extent her desire to stand out when we read, “If there is one thing I can’t forgive it is advice…(Preface 57).”
After reading Zirconia, I was somewhat desensitized to Minnis’ use of extended ellipses. Often, especially in her poems that contain extremely diverse or unrelated images, it is easy for me to lose track of what is being conveyed when all that ties the images together is a string of dots. On the other hand, her use of extended ellipses works well to encourage the reader’s participation in her work; the reader is forced to mentally supply what happens in between her statements, much like the function of “the gutter” in a comic strip. So depending on what one looks for in poetry (concrete imagery or vagueness that forces one to participate), the ellipses can be a blessing or a curse.
After reading Bad Bad a second time, I decided that my favorite poem in the collection is “Aspen.” I think that it’s more cohesive than her other work. I like how the imagery of the aspen grove weaves a thread through the entire poem. Probably my favorite line is “through the thorns of an eye-level sunset…”
In conclusion, Minnis’ work is interesting, though I personally didn’t see it as revolutionary as she claims…I think her approach to poetry as outlined in her prefaces is much more unique than her work itself.
“If I am a poet I am the worst kind of poet (4),” and countless other self-depreciations pepper this book. In fact, near the end of the book we’re shown in “Anti-Vitae” that Minnis has recorded many of her failures chronologically from 1984 to 2004. This seems to be a stark contrast to her statement in Preface 1.
She obviously relishes going against the grain and challenging the status quo. She seems to challenge the orthodox motivations of many poets when she writes, in her first preface, “If anyone thinks they need to write reviews, teach classes, edit magazines or translate books in order to write good poetry…then maybe they should just take a rest from it…” We realize to the full extent her desire to stand out when we read, “If there is one thing I can’t forgive it is advice…(Preface 57).”
After reading Zirconia, I was somewhat desensitized to Minnis’ use of extended ellipses. Often, especially in her poems that contain extremely diverse or unrelated images, it is easy for me to lose track of what is being conveyed when all that ties the images together is a string of dots. On the other hand, her use of extended ellipses works well to encourage the reader’s participation in her work; the reader is forced to mentally supply what happens in between her statements, much like the function of “the gutter” in a comic strip. So depending on what one looks for in poetry (concrete imagery or vagueness that forces one to participate), the ellipses can be a blessing or a curse.
After reading Bad Bad a second time, I decided that my favorite poem in the collection is “Aspen.” I think that it’s more cohesive than her other work. I like how the imagery of the aspen grove weaves a thread through the entire poem. Probably my favorite line is “through the thorns of an eye-level sunset…”
In conclusion, Minnis’ work is interesting, though I personally didn’t see it as revolutionary as she claims…I think her approach to poetry as outlined in her prefaces is much more unique than her work itself.
February 9, 2025
“I want to write a poem because I don't feel very boring!
But I will feel like a stuffed leopard because of the praise.
No one should get paid to write poems and nobody should even be allowed to write them.
But a love poem will not fail.
Do you think I am very happy, with my uncut wrists?”
—
“I can only write poetry that is like a tuba covered with blood ...
No asylums, crackhouses, jails, hitchhiker's cars, ditches, or body dumps for me!
If I find a piece of rope ... I must use it to tie myself to the bedposts ...
If I find the pretty pink horse-pills etc.
This is not a mini-gun with which to shoot myself.”
—
“When I write a poem it's like looking through a knothole into a velvet fuckpad ...
And it is like buttery sweetbreads spilled down the front of your dress ...
It is like a gun held to the head of a poodle ...
If I want to write any poems I will write them!
A poem that doesn't have any intellectual filler in it ...
Like two blondes fighting on a roof ...”
—
“A poem can be too good for anyone. But this poem will not be too good for anyone...
It will be like a fake fire in a fake fireplace...
You might think you like poetry but you don't...
Again, I would rather have a Gucci bag than a poem...
I don't think my brains are that good...
It is a student's mistake ... to like your own brains too much ... or to think that you will ever feel bad for writing any thing ...
A poem should not be flawless but should be able to bear the burden of its flaws ...
You think this poem will have a high standard ... but, like all poems, it will only be made to be approved ...”
—
“As a modern poet you are not supposed to be a spectacle of bad habits ...
But sometimes you have to be hard-drinking ...
Some people must commit suicide because they are too lovely to live ...
But I am not too lovely to live ...
I am good enough to be trained to be happy ...”
—
“I am a poet so I can say things ...
And not so that I can have any notion of a literary lifestyle ...
I don't like to be a poet but how else can I be so fitful?
When I say "I am a poet" I expect I am saying something that is neutral of all self-congratulations ...
I am saying, ‘I have a special quality that is like swan shit on marble ...’ "
—
“I can't accept a reasonable alternative ... l can only accept the bad original idea ...
which is to write poems ...
lt is very disheartening, like circus wages ...
I want to write a poem like non-asphyxiation!
Sometimes I look inward with happiness and this is when I can write a poem ...”
—
“Poetry is made to produce an expensive drowsiness ...
With a true flickering of disinterest ...
This is like a very serious boredom ...
It is the boredom of poetry!”
—
“.......... bad + bad .....................................................................................................................................................................................it is .......................................................................................... centaur to be with you ........................................................................................................................................................... and propane to remember it .............................................................................................................................................................................. ..............................................................................................................”
—
“........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ so ........................................... magenta .............................................................................................................................. to be with you ................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ ......................................................................................................... and.javelin................ to be alone ..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... ......................... like a bad twin and a bad twin .........”
—
“............................................................................................................... like........... the sparking rustle of a metal hem .................................................................... ...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................it's ....... gumdrop................................................................................................................................ when you ... unbutton my glove.......................................................................”
—
“Mildred, the retinal scan of an aloe green eye
Mildred, cabinets open to reveal you
Mildred, thrown upon the ceiling, a gold border surrounding you
Mildred, you can safely tear yourself apart ...
Mildred, red ants in the grass
Mildred, the electronic verbena
Mildred, the night spurts over your black umbrellas”
—
“It is always very calm when we sit side by side on the piano bench ...
I want to squeeze my hands together but there's nothing to do ...
Everything is an object that can be picked up and put down again.
We don't want to mess up our outfits. And we like to play checkers.
We are two friends who hold hands in the universe ...”
But I will feel like a stuffed leopard because of the praise.
No one should get paid to write poems and nobody should even be allowed to write them.
But a love poem will not fail.
Do you think I am very happy, with my uncut wrists?”
—
“I can only write poetry that is like a tuba covered with blood ...
No asylums, crackhouses, jails, hitchhiker's cars, ditches, or body dumps for me!
If I find a piece of rope ... I must use it to tie myself to the bedposts ...
If I find the pretty pink horse-pills etc.
This is not a mini-gun with which to shoot myself.”
—
“When I write a poem it's like looking through a knothole into a velvet fuckpad ...
And it is like buttery sweetbreads spilled down the front of your dress ...
It is like a gun held to the head of a poodle ...
If I want to write any poems I will write them!
A poem that doesn't have any intellectual filler in it ...
Like two blondes fighting on a roof ...”
—
“A poem can be too good for anyone. But this poem will not be too good for anyone...
It will be like a fake fire in a fake fireplace...
You might think you like poetry but you don't...
Again, I would rather have a Gucci bag than a poem...
I don't think my brains are that good...
It is a student's mistake ... to like your own brains too much ... or to think that you will ever feel bad for writing any thing ...
A poem should not be flawless but should be able to bear the burden of its flaws ...
You think this poem will have a high standard ... but, like all poems, it will only be made to be approved ...”
—
“As a modern poet you are not supposed to be a spectacle of bad habits ...
But sometimes you have to be hard-drinking ...
Some people must commit suicide because they are too lovely to live ...
But I am not too lovely to live ...
I am good enough to be trained to be happy ...”
—
“I am a poet so I can say things ...
And not so that I can have any notion of a literary lifestyle ...
I don't like to be a poet but how else can I be so fitful?
When I say "I am a poet" I expect I am saying something that is neutral of all self-congratulations ...
I am saying, ‘I have a special quality that is like swan shit on marble ...’ "
—
“I can't accept a reasonable alternative ... l can only accept the bad original idea ...
which is to write poems ...
lt is very disheartening, like circus wages ...
I want to write a poem like non-asphyxiation!
Sometimes I look inward with happiness and this is when I can write a poem ...”
—
“Poetry is made to produce an expensive drowsiness ...
With a true flickering of disinterest ...
This is like a very serious boredom ...
It is the boredom of poetry!”
—
“.......... bad + bad .....................................................................................................................................................................................it is .......................................................................................... centaur to be with you ........................................................................................................................................................... and propane to remember it .............................................................................................................................................................................. ..............................................................................................................”
—
“........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ so ........................................... magenta .............................................................................................................................. to be with you ................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................ ......................................................................................................... and.javelin................ to be alone ..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................... ......................... like a bad twin and a bad twin .........”
—
“............................................................................................................... like........... the sparking rustle of a metal hem .................................................................... ...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................it's ....... gumdrop................................................................................................................................ when you ... unbutton my glove.......................................................................”
—
“Mildred, the retinal scan of an aloe green eye
Mildred, cabinets open to reveal you
Mildred, thrown upon the ceiling, a gold border surrounding you
Mildred, you can safely tear yourself apart ...
Mildred, red ants in the grass
Mildred, the electronic verbena
Mildred, the night spurts over your black umbrellas”
—
“It is always very calm when we sit side by side on the piano bench ...
I want to squeeze my hands together but there's nothing to do ...
Everything is an object that can be picked up and put down again.
We don't want to mess up our outfits. And we like to play checkers.
We are two friends who hold hands in the universe ...”
May 18, 2013
A couple of my friends have a band called BAAD, maybe there are more As I'm not sure. This is totally the book they would have written if they were poets instead of musicians (I mean, if they produced books instead of live shows).
May 9, 2008
Loved this!
It really IS 'CHILDISH!' and 'DECADENT!' as the back of the book blurb adverts (subverts?)
It really IS 'CHILDISH!' and 'DECADENT!' as the back of the book blurb adverts (subverts?)
February 24, 2009
rolling from 1 or 2 stars up to 5 stars.... most everything i said, in confusion, about Zirconia (one of her other collections, applies here....
January 10, 2011
Finally I found it! Gah, I'm so in love with her! The cover design and fonts are appalling! You know it must be amazing if I could read a book this ugly in public, everywhere. She's so exciting.
February 12, 2013
Unlike anything I've ever read. Amazing.
August 7, 2007
My poetry sucks.
January 23, 2023
I started reading Chelsey Minnis because she was cited as an inspiration in an interview with Hera Lindsay Bird that I read on tumblr (of all places, of course). I started with Baby I Don't Care and I didn't really get it (I mean, I comprehended it, but didn't /get/ it *gestures around vaguely* yknow?) but with Bad Bad... I GOT it.... ya get it?
It's very experimental and brash and gives no fucks about the rules or conventions of anything. The book starts with 68 prefaces, each of them little quatrain poems of their own, yet connected in the introduction for what's to come.
The middle portion consists of poems with heavy use of ellipsis, which slows everything down and forces you (as the reader) to emphasize each word she says. It's a stylistic choice, but I find her words so much more captivating than all the ellipsis (so this where the collection loses a star).
Then the final third is back to poems that dig into this like, old-timey costume wardrobe catalog of imagery to craft poems about femininity and artifice and misbehaving and death and fucking off.
It was like a sandwich where the bread was really good, but it was just two slices of bread and the in between was just air and you WISH there was something there because you know it would have been fucking delicious but hey, at least you ate some damn good bread right?
It's very experimental and brash and gives no fucks about the rules or conventions of anything. The book starts with 68 prefaces, each of them little quatrain poems of their own, yet connected in the introduction for what's to come.
The middle portion consists of poems with heavy use of ellipsis, which slows everything down and forces you (as the reader) to emphasize each word she says. It's a stylistic choice, but I find her words so much more captivating than all the ellipsis (so this where the collection loses a star).
Then the final third is back to poems that dig into this like, old-timey costume wardrobe catalog of imagery to craft poems about femininity and artifice and misbehaving and death and fucking off.
It was like a sandwich where the bread was really good, but it was just two slices of bread and the in between was just air and you WISH there was something there because you know it would have been fucking delicious but hey, at least you ate some damn good bread right?
August 16, 2018
Liked Preface #47, Bad † Bad, 13-16-99-69, and Anti Vitae especially. First half felt at times foggy, rambling, and self-indulgent. Second half definitely my favorite, beautiful imagery, queer dreaming, and assessing trauma.
June 10, 2024
“and look at how it hurts…../because we are…./ so prefabricated…../ and/ we can’t pretend to think about it…./when we know it like inseparable…./ life is a substance…./and it is pure/….sancrosact in the pussy….when it runs out”
January 29, 2018
hell yea chelsey is crazy and bitchy and Sorrowful and trolling the entire poetry community but ain't too hard to laugh at herself and that's what I love
December 18, 2018
delightfully frustrating
May 30, 2019
I love this book. It is one to own.
January 8, 2021
”No one wants poems to be easygoing, but to be hard going...
And I can make it... hard going”
And I can make it... hard going”
November 23, 2022
What a hoot! This is bold, bracing, unpredictable and genuinely laugh out loud -- plus super innovative with the layout and delivery - recommended reading for everyone with a pair of eyes
October 3, 2025
malo escribir poemas malo ser poeta “like if i were to carry around a turd and pretend is my baby” poesia!!!
July 31, 2025
It's like reading a drunk/high person's Facebook post.
This was something. I did like a few. But a lot of them felt like torture to read. First and last time reading anything by her.
This was something. I did like a few. But a lot of them felt like torture to read. First and last time reading anything by her.
November 29, 2022
“ Poetry is for crap since there’s no money or fast cars in it…
But, in the thighs… I feel it…”
Dissacrante.
April 24, 2010
Chelsey Minnis’ Bad Bad shows her to be a poet who doesn’t care one bit about other’s opinions of her work, refuses other’s advice and is basically her own critic. This is apparent in the opening lines of preface 1: “People say ‘nothing new’ or ‘the death of the author’ but, I am new and I am not dead. Intellectual, anachronistic, superserious: I’m not going to start crying because ‘experimental’ and I’m not going to start crying because ‘not experimental’…” I believe that in saying this Minnis is refusing to be adversely affected by others’ critiques of her work. Also, in preface 6 she maintains, “I have dismissed all compliments since my mentor’s death.” This seems to blatantly show that Minnis disregards both praise and criticism of her work…unless, that is, it’s self-directed:
“If I am a poet I am the worst kind of poet (4),” and countless other self-depreciations pepper this book. In fact, near the end of the book we’re shown in “Anti-Vitae” that Minnis has recorded many of her failures chronologically from 1984 to 2004. This seems to be a stark contrast to her statement in Preface 1.
She obviously relishes going against the grain and challenging the status quo. She seems to challenge the orthodox motivations of many poets when she writes, in her first preface, “If anyone thinks they need to write reviews, teach classes, edit magazines or translate books in order to write good poetry…then maybe they should just take a rest from it…” We realize to the full extent her desire to stand out when we read, “If there is one thing I can’t forgive it is advice…(Preface 57).”
After reading Zirconia, I was somewhat desensitized to Minnis’ use of extended ellipses. Often, especially in her poems that contain extremely diverse or unrelated images, it is easy for me to lose track of what is being conveyed when all that ties the images together is a string of dots. On the other hand, her use of extended ellipses works well to encourage the reader’s participation in her work; the reader is forced to mentally supply what happens in between her statements, much like the function of “the gutter” in a comic strip. So depending on what one looks for in poetry (concrete imagery or vagueness that forces one to participate), the ellipses can be a blessing or a curse.
“If I am a poet I am the worst kind of poet (4),” and countless other self-depreciations pepper this book. In fact, near the end of the book we’re shown in “Anti-Vitae” that Minnis has recorded many of her failures chronologically from 1984 to 2004. This seems to be a stark contrast to her statement in Preface 1.
She obviously relishes going against the grain and challenging the status quo. She seems to challenge the orthodox motivations of many poets when she writes, in her first preface, “If anyone thinks they need to write reviews, teach classes, edit magazines or translate books in order to write good poetry…then maybe they should just take a rest from it…” We realize to the full extent her desire to stand out when we read, “If there is one thing I can’t forgive it is advice…(Preface 57).”
After reading Zirconia, I was somewhat desensitized to Minnis’ use of extended ellipses. Often, especially in her poems that contain extremely diverse or unrelated images, it is easy for me to lose track of what is being conveyed when all that ties the images together is a string of dots. On the other hand, her use of extended ellipses works well to encourage the reader’s participation in her work; the reader is forced to mentally supply what happens in between her statements, much like the function of “the gutter” in a comic strip. So depending on what one looks for in poetry (concrete imagery or vagueness that forces one to participate), the ellipses can be a blessing or a curse.
January 11, 2018
couldn’t finish, and wanted to throw it across the room. which i think is a success.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 49 reviews