Dani Couture's latest poems are transmissions that travel across the cosmos, the spaces we live in, as well as within the more intimate distances we navigate between one another. Distances we hope to bridge with contact, often to profound or disastrous effects. With language rooted in science, sociology, memoir and aesthetics, she questions the limits of our bodies, both human and celestial. Like the subtle cues we lend one another and the hopeful messages we send into deep space, these poems broadcast our greatest aspirations and vulnerabilities.
There is a lot to unpackage in "Listen Before Transmit" and perhaps I read it a bit too hastily. Couture's poems are filled with imagery and vivid lines that are worth extracting and writing down, but too often did I feel like the poems lacked an overall sensation or energy that they transmitted to me as a reader, leaving me to follow the string of images and narrative developments and wonder how to connect back to what happened earlier from the current point in the poem. I will probably have to get back to "Later Before Transmit" at a later date because I feel like I either haven't done it justice or I wasn't in the head space/moment in time when I could fully gauge what Couture did, for while I enjoyed a few of the individual poems fully or snippets from various others, I didn't feel the kind of overpowering emotional response I always hope for when I pick up a poetry collection.