Skin

Walt McDonald First-Book Series in Poetry

by April Lindner, Robert A. Fink (Introduction)

Haven’t we all been told how beauty is thin as truth? And don’t we believe and disbelieve this “lie we’d carve and starve for. / We’d suck it till the juice ran down our arms”? Skin compels us, repels us. Beauty may be only skin deep, a fine covering—sensuous, at times translucent, almost transparent, and yet so obdurate. Skin insulates, guarding its vital organs just beneath this surface that teases us to peek, to try to penetrate. We call this desire by many names, the best of which is love. April Lindner’s sensuously orchestrated collection of poems conveys the beauty and truth of love, how we know it to be paradoxical, obsessive, fearful, rapacious, holy.—Robert FinkFontanelHere’s the ravine, a stretch of skinspanning the breach like a footbridge.Canvas-thin, it trembles with the bloodthat runs beneath. Something less tangiblecourses there too, a whitewater flumeof images: the stretching housecat;car keys that sing and catch light;floorboards knotted with dark, animal eyes;the window with its shifting square of sky.All things equal, each thing startling,and everything unmediated by the mind’shabitual grapple with whyand so what. You frown at a fadedwallpaper pineapple, and the membraneflutters harder. I’m carefulwhen I comb your sparse brown hair.When I sing your name I borrow a liltI’d never use in speech. The wordsdon’t matter; I’m saying drink me while you can,like milk. Let me be flesh and flannel,hands that loosen your tangled blanket.Know me by scent before you learn my name,before doorknobs turn into doorknobs,before the gates knit shut.

Genres: Poetry

88 pages, Hardcover

First published March 1, 2002

Reviews

[Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

While reading Lindner's prose debut, Jane, I noticed that she was adept at communicating poetic thoughts without falling into the poet-writing-prose trap. So often when poets turn to prose it's just too much of a good thing. You start wanting people to just kiss, damn it, not smell each others' breath and think about apple season. (Yes, The Outlander, I mean you. Too much!) So, knowing that Lindner was capable of creative restraint (something I need to work on myself), I was interested in reading her poetry. I was not disappointed. The "historical" poems in the center of the book weren't really my scene but I really liked the other cycles. By coincidence, the subject was perfect for my current frame of mind and station in life.

[Cylia Kamp · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed April Lindner's book This Bed Our Bodies Made, but I found Skin much more difficult to understand. The 3-star review reflects my confusion which is most likely due to my need to read more poetry. I'd like to place this book on a new shelf entitled "Read-Again-Later."