BUGGERY investigates queer desire, loneliness, & joy in the rural south. Buggery is a coming out, a celebration, and a reckoning, with poems about the messiness of pleasure, mothman, St. Sebastian, queer ANGER, cruising, sloppy want, sadness, and the sugar crash of heartbreak. Inventive & exuberant, Derek’s work strikes a tightrope balance between exploring desire & death, a political & fierce & filthy shudder of poems.
The month of June, Pride Month, would seem to be the right season for reviewing Derek Berry’s chapbook, Buggery. But what had I gotten myself into? The title itself is enough to cause one pause before taking it on. And that cover illustration of the wide open mouth that appears ready to swallow us up like the whale after Jonah, is rather intimidating. But despite the graphic nature, Buggery is a superbly well-crafted collection of poetry. With their aubades, their mondegreens, their ouroboros, and the references to reverential art and liturgy, this is a poet’s poetry book. At times irreverent, at other times sublime, Buggery is a deftly concocted mix of the sacred and profane - which is probably why it won the BOOM Chapbook contest and why I liked it better than I thought I would.
The receiving mouth and throat is one theme that weaves its way throughout the text. Yet it is a pleasure mixed with sorrow and horror, being both an erotic exchange but also a means of death in allusions to the arrow through the throat of St. Sebastian, and, by extension, the murder of Matthew Shepherd. Yet the open mouth is also an emblem for modern communication as well and a universal exhortation for humanity. For we are a people that are persistently telling others our stories. But the poet of this chapbook wants us to consider who is listening and reminds us that perhaps we all should be:
“...dance with no one to impress. Stop spilling your voice into the world. Listen hard.” -Derek Berry, “what saturday morning had to say about all that”
I could sing a million words of praise, but here is all you need to know: Amanda Lovelace is the only poet I have ever read who surpasses Evelyn, and it's marginal.
Her words are pristine, especially in Acquired Taste and An Ecology of Queer. These poems are some of the most well-crafted, earnest, and gut-wrenching words I have ever read. After hearing her read on TikTok first, I didn't think it could get better, but then the book came and I was floored. I just don't have words for what this collection means to me, and I cannot wait for her next collection Grief Slut.
If you get a chance to follow her on TikTok, you should. Listen to her read. Go see her live. Support this artist. I need more of her words.