Rebecca Hoogs digs down into the depths of humanity in her newest collection of poetry, Self-Storage . She tells stories of myth, self-portrait, and understanding. With poignant language and beautiful subject matter, Hoogs connects with her audience on a personal level.
Poems that pull back and put emotional distance between the reader and the speaker, dissecting words and meaning, turning stories on their heads and providing alternative endings.
from This Myth: "(You write about your personal mythology, / he said, greatly offending me. So I turned him into a tree / and cut him down and have been using him // as firewood ever since."
from Another Plot Cliché: "I can smell the smoke already. No matter, I'd rather shatter / than be looked through all day. So come careening; I know / you have other clichés to hammer home: / women with groceries to send spilling, canals to leap as the bridge is rising."
from Commute: "The evening's amber alert lights up. / Modern sunset, another abduction, // and fuck, traffic is bad."
a fine book of considerations and contemplations that are at once familiar without the preciousness of the kind that typically make you think, "oh there's that feeling, again, that thing too many poems talk about." Speaking of speaking, the other thing this poems seem to be doing is saying something back to themselves, having discussions on time and perhaps a non-needing of time, all right before your eyes on the page.