Mayor Snow is about both the abdication and acceptances of responsibilities and be they civic, personal, poetic. It begins with speaker-less evocations of corrupt and oppressive political atmospheres and ends with first-person narrative tales of domestic life in Al Purdy’s refurbished A-frame. All of these poems work in a shadow, be they forebears, tabloids, cultural markers or government watchdogs.In the opening and closing sequences, narrative devices act as smokescreens to abstract illustrations of power, with the central sequence reflecting on the subject of dislocation. Parody and paradox are closely intertwined throughout, with the authority of power disrupted through dark humour, unexpected images and the deep resonances existing in apparently innocuous a well-worn (and literally “powerless”) cabin, a baby daughter, a poem. The question of groundedness, whether literal, literary or familial, explores the terrain between the fearful and the “Go outside. / Listen to dogs howl. // How do we live / without power?”
An unexpected collection that does a great job in giving a lot of entry points and even some directions to lead the reader deeper, but many end up getting complicated and losing the path. There were too many great images to list, but out of all the poems I thought “The Particular Melon” deserves a special mention for its interesting new take on the idea of motherly responsibility, tying that in with melons and boxing in an unexpected way. It was nice to read something different, despite my confusion along the way.