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Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch
“[Bottoms] makes astounding leaps of both faith and doubt, and does so with insight, honesty, and flashes of anger―all characteristic elements of his work.” ― The Southern Review “One finds here what one expects in a book of good Southern clear narratives . . . evocative images, searching irony, and meditative poise.” ― Library Journal “Bottoms’ poems do what the best poems have always They compel us to reread them. They linger in our minds. They alter our perception of the world.” ― Atlanta Journal-Constitution David Bottoms explores otherness, the death of parents, and private spirituality. Images of rural Georgia confront the changing landscape of his memories where he searches for refuge in quiet places of prayer. Rooted in nature, Bottoms’ poetry affirms the “tenuous ways tenderness seeps into the world” and the loneliness inherent in memory. Memory is “smoke off a damp fire” as Bottoms explores absence, a contemplative inner life, and changing landscapes. From “An Absence”: Yes, things happen in the cool white spaces,
those moments you turn your head –
the way the trembling branch suggests the owl,
or the print by the pond suggests the fox.
Near the end, though, only one thing matters,
and nothing, not even the fox, moves as quietly. David Bottoms is the author of eight books of poetry and has received the Walt Whitman Award, fellowships from the NEA and Guggenheim Foundation, and served as Poet Laureate of Georgia for twelve years. He currently holds the Amos Distinguished Chair in English at Georgia State University.
those moments you turn your head –
the way the trembling branch suggests the owl,
or the print by the pond suggests the fox.
Near the end, though, only one thing matters,
and nothing, not even the fox, moves as quietly. David Bottoms is the author of eight books of poetry and has received the Walt Whitman Award, fellowships from the NEA and Guggenheim Foundation, and served as Poet Laureate of Georgia for twelve years. He currently holds the Amos Distinguished Chair in English at Georgia State University.
- GenresPoetry
72 pages, Paperback
Published April 10, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
June 16, 2023
Poems about the fullness of silence, the hope in despair, and the humility required to really attend to an unknown (yet beckoning) world. The Southern regionalism is a nice touch. Bottoms wants us to see that the South is a far more mysterious and mystical place than we're led to believe.
"Soon someone else would call, someone from the house.
But I'd not answer. Not yet. I liked to hide.
I liked to sit alone in the dark.
No one knew where to find me. Still,
if I held my breath for a moment, if I stayed quiet, if I listened
and didn't breathe,
a wind might rise and garble my name."
(Cathedrals, 31)
"Soon someone else would call, someone from the house.
But I'd not answer. Not yet. I liked to hide.
I liked to sit alone in the dark.
No one knew where to find me. Still,
if I held my breath for a moment, if I stayed quiet, if I listened
and didn't breathe,
a wind might rise and garble my name."
(Cathedrals, 31)
July 14, 2018
I’ve been house-bound for a few weeks, and after dosing myself with too much “comfort reading” I developed a yen for some poetry. This beautifully written little book was perfect. Some of the poems are utterly ambiguous, some are perfect little stories, and they somehow hang together into a family history. I was entranced.
April 7, 2023
Really missing Bottoms, a poet I followed for decades. Here's one of the last in this fine collection, describing the crazy Snowmageddon we Atlanta citizens get some Winters.
Other Evidence
Rain now, heavy, and in a few hours
an icy mix, then snow after sundown, heavy, with gusting winds.
The weather guys are rarely wrong.
No milk on the grocery shelves, no bread,
no cornflakes. Certainly I'll regret not splitting more firewood.
Atlanta at a standstill - big rigs abandoned
on the interstate, cars spun out on the shoulders of the roads,
men and women trudging in the snow.
For years now,
I've feared the tall pine leaning toward the house,
the loosening soil and the loud crash through the roof.
In the morning, sure, a kind of beauty-
the white blanket draping the yard,
Jack chasing the apple core I throw into the woods,
but also those strange tracks crossing
the yard, skirting the windows
and fading again into the trees.
--- David Bottoms Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch
BAT: Highly recommended.
Read more Bottoms.
Thanks Fulton Public Library for the loan.
Other Evidence
Rain now, heavy, and in a few hours
an icy mix, then snow after sundown, heavy, with gusting winds.
The weather guys are rarely wrong.
No milk on the grocery shelves, no bread,
no cornflakes. Certainly I'll regret not splitting more firewood.
Atlanta at a standstill - big rigs abandoned
on the interstate, cars spun out on the shoulders of the roads,
men and women trudging in the snow.
For years now,
I've feared the tall pine leaning toward the house,
the loosening soil and the loud crash through the roof.
In the morning, sure, a kind of beauty-
the white blanket draping the yard,
Jack chasing the apple core I throw into the woods,
but also those strange tracks crossing
the yard, skirting the windows
and fading again into the trees.
--- David Bottoms Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch
BAT: Highly recommended.
Read more Bottoms.
Thanks Fulton Public Library for the loan.
March 17, 2019
Burying a charged cell phone with a suicided brother. Pissing with your dog out back at 3am. Not shooting with a gun an exquisite resting moccasin. Tender, measured, musky stories about the South's right now. Maybe the poem cousins of country songs.
September 1, 2025
I was able to relate to this short volume of succinct poems.
October 19, 2025
What a quietly devastating collection.
October 10, 2022
sweet, gentle, meaningful.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews