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Red Mud
Red Mud is elemental: earth, water, blood. Its poems are both lyrical and direct, engaging the reader in a journey through terrain inhabited by distant men and cautious women, guided by the deer, mouse, bird, and fox. The poet, like the moose, "who, given mud, makes pleasure of it."
112 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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December 7, 2012
This was an amazing read. Several poems brought me to tears, and I find that most contemporary poetry rarely does that to me. With fiction and film, one is engaged for longer periods of time—so for a poem to bring me to tears is more difficult.
Three sections, 100 pages, and what a powerful exploration of many themes, including: the accident where the protagonist loses part of her leg, love, divorce, child-rearing, motherhood, the body, and nature.
Too many favorite poems to name, but I could feel my Ozarks home in sign-predicting in “Rings.”
A great line from the poem “Boundaries” is “. . . this stony grief / that seems to weight her.”
“The Cripple,” a poem about a crippled deer as well as the protagonist’s injury (amputated, with a “wooden ankle”) is heartbreaking.
The volume is rich in rural life, which I particularly relate to, living in the Ozarks of southern Missouri.
I am changed by this book because the reality of nature—its brutality, harshness, and beauty—are given full scope for what it is: heartbreaking, genuine, real. Though some of the poems are dark, I would say as the author does: “Not a bad evening. Not a bad life.”
Three sections, 100 pages, and what a powerful exploration of many themes, including: the accident where the protagonist loses part of her leg, love, divorce, child-rearing, motherhood, the body, and nature.
Too many favorite poems to name, but I could feel my Ozarks home in sign-predicting in “Rings.”
A great line from the poem “Boundaries” is “. . . this stony grief / that seems to weight her.”
“The Cripple,” a poem about a crippled deer as well as the protagonist’s injury (amputated, with a “wooden ankle”) is heartbreaking.
The volume is rich in rural life, which I particularly relate to, living in the Ozarks of southern Missouri.
I am changed by this book because the reality of nature—its brutality, harshness, and beauty—are given full scope for what it is: heartbreaking, genuine, real. Though some of the poems are dark, I would say as the author does: “Not a bad evening. Not a bad life.”
Displaying 1 of 1 review