I read about 60 percent novels, 20 percent short stories, 10 percent nonfiction, and 10 percent poetry. And as poetry requires you to read slower to fully appreciate it, still collections like these can fly by as fast as headlights on a highway simply by page count.
That said, Lisa's collection was one I tried to savor, only reading one or two a day over the course of several weeks. Knowing her personally, I can hear her voice in the words, envision the scenery she paints with the clarity of familiarity. While the collection is mostly tragic or deceptively hopeful, it paints a singular image of a woman reckoning with the pains of her past, with her parents, her sons, and even her pets. Of the many favorites, stand-outs include My Lake, the impassioned personification of a place so familiar it feels like family, and For My First Dog, with its sprinkles of innocent shame.
There are countless others, but more than the individual pieces, I really enjoyed the tone of the collection, as if getting to know the woman I went to college with over a decade ago, all over again. The images and metaphors read both naturally, and as if fine-tuned to those hard to describe moments in life, and the sounds of the wordplay rolling around the mouth (yes, I always try to read poetry aloud) was both smooth and, at times, musical, just as it should be. Even if you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Lisa or hearing her read these poems, there's plenty of wonderment and brilliant rhythms here to leave you wanting to return to these poems again and again.