On page after enigmatic page, Killarney Clary shows us her mastery of the prose poem in this spiritual biography that journeys across the natural landscape while plumbing the dizzying depths of the psyche. Potential Stranger reveals that in the public world we are all called upon to as children, we are expected to find a place in the uniform; as entertainers, to play an exaggerated version of ourselves; and, as explorers, to rest content when we have reached our destination. Precise, prophetic, and spare, Clary reminds us that of all the potential strangers we may meet in our travels, people who forever "remain behind gestures and posture," the first and last of those is always the self.
It is the Los Angeles landscape as well as other westward, fantastic landscapes that appear in Killarney’s poetry as she maps and explores the poet’s mindscape asking questions such as: “if you don’t come to weight me, then, what is my shape; where is the space I hold?” (Clary 32).Some believe that by writing in prose, the poet gives up much—namely, the lyricism afforded by the line. Yet, I believe that Killarney’s prose poetry exemplifies how far the poet can push the sonic medium of words, phrases, and sentences, and creates meaning from both sound and syntax, all contained within the limitlessness of prose.