Intimate, nostalgic, and surprising, the poems in I Can Hear You, Can You Hear Me? spark connections that alter trajectory and carry lasting resonance. Encounters across phone lines, over drinks, through walkie-talkies, and unspoken recognitions between queer bodies fill this collection with explorations of what it means to be seen. The micro-narratives in I Can Hear You, Can You Hear Me? both celebrate and grieve the connections they illuminate. Nolan Natasha’s poetry is plainspoken but lyrical, sweet but frank, nostalgic but unromanticized, combining the atmosphere of Eileen Myles with the musical insight of Helen Humphreys. These poems bring an unflinching examination and a keen sense of humour to moments of human connection and self-exploration.
I admit these poems didn’t quite stick the way I feel other poems do. However, I wouldn’t say I was bored with them or anything. I thought Natasha explored some wonderful ideas around queerness, many of these poems having a nostalgic tinge to them. A lot of these poem take a lot of time to reflect on the past and do some self-exploration that I appreciated.
I think the reason these poems didn’t totally connect with me might have been due to the way these poems were organized. It didn’t seem to have a particular flow that made it easy for me to see a kind of journey from one poem to the next that many other collections do.
Some favorites: “Walkie-talkie,” “30,” “Queer,” “I miss you,” “Handmade box,” “Divining,” “Sideways snow,” “From God”
These poems are intimate, they feel like they are addressing individuals, places, concepts, directly. My favourites were: celebration, getting married, women’s studies, queer, and arachnophobia.