Lucky Fish

by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

Lucky Fish travels along a lush current — a confluence of leaping vocabulary and startling formal variety, with upwelling gratitude at its source: for love, motherhood, “new hope,” and the fluid and rich possibilities of words themselves. With an exuberant appetite for “my morning song, my scurry-step, my dew,” anchored in complicated human situations, this astounding young poet’s third collection of poems is her strongest yet.

Genres: Poetry, Asian American, Nature, Contemporary, Adult, Literary Fiction, School

78 pages, Paperback

First published January 15, 2011

About the author

author of WORLD OF WONDERS: IN PRAISE OF FIREFLIES, WHALE SHARKS, AND OTHER ASTONISHMENTS (Milkweed 2020), and four collections of poetry, most recently, OCEANIC (Copper Canyon, 2018). Professor of English and Glitter, University of Mississippi.

Reviews

[Jenna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Here's a poem from this book that I like: https://www.pbs.org/newshour/arts/wee...

You know what I like about this poem? If you, or I, or any of a million other neurotics had written it, it would have been dark, cruel, ironic. Instead: such delightful sincerity in that ending! Sometimes, cheer is an unexpected blessing.

There's a lot of cheer in this book, and effervescence, and jewel tones, and melt-in-your-mouth pie crusts, and warmhearted affection for family and reptiles and everything in between. Nezhukumatathil's poetry reminds me a bit of Ada Limon's or Ellen Bass's -- you can't help liking it.

Of the book's three sections -- the first concerns the fauna of different lands, with an especial focus on the poet's parents' native lands of India and the Philippines; the second is about a happy girlhood, ending in becoming a wife; the third, on being a mother -- the last was overall my favorite, surprisingly. There's some lovely, folklore-savvy speculative poetry in there on what it'd be like to give birth to a hedgehog, a werewolf, a bird. And also, "Birth Geographic," which includes these two passages I'd like to end by quoting:

"               My three-page

single-spaced birth plan shrank     into one sentence--'Mother alive,

     baby alive.' And when my husband wasn't looking, I snipped it

               to just two words:

"Baby alive.....

"Because I know talk like this frightens you, I will say this only once: If I am ever lost or someone ever wonders if the cause of my death is by my own hand--let it be known that I will never leave you of my own accord.... I swear to you here and now: If I ever go missing, know that I am trying to come home."

[Carey · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sealey Challenge 2024: 14/31

**4.5/5 Rounded Up**

This collection examines themes such as the natural world around us, motherhood, falling in love with life, and the ways life changes over time. I left this collection feeling this sense of optimism as the poet reminds us that there is so much we can be lucky to survive and experience in this life.

[Laura Desiano · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have read Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s first two books, Miracle Fruit (2003) and At the Drive-In Volcano (2007), both from Tupelo Press, in one sitting. However, it took me nearly two months to finish her latest full-length collection Lucky Fish. (2011, Tupelo). This was due to the fact that I am in my last semester of my MFA and I have been frantically working on my thesis. But personal circumstances aside, I am now glad I took my time.

I’m not the kind of person that likes to compare a poet’s new work to her past (wow I’m bad at this review thing), because I think everyone writes from whatever self they are at that time. That said, if you are fan of Nezhukmatathil, you’ll enjoy this book. The difference with Lucky Fish is merely the passage of time; the poet is a new person with new experiences that inform this collection, particularly the last section that includes a series of poems about pregnancy, breastfeeding, motherhood and parenting. What remains constant is Nezhukmatathil’s ability to create world that is simultaneously filled with the mundane and magical.

Comprised of three sections, the first sets out with a wandering spirit, traveling the globe. Nez tells us that “The Globe Is Just An Asterisk,” which is both the section title and the first poem of the book. The last line serves as a springboard for the poems that follow; “I will always find a way to dig.” And dig she does, and we dig along with her. Dig up stories from India and the Philippines. Dig up animals from earth, sky and sea. Dig our forks deep into a berry pie, its “buttery crust.” The section ends with the speaker eating the soil of New York, Arizona, Florida and Ohio. Dig in.

In the second section we dig through time, into adolescence, recalling deeply the pain of childhood, of being different. We witness fruit trees being stolen and the school mascot finally gets a chance to speak. Even with all the narrative poems, Nezhukumatathil still infuses this collection with lyricism, such as in her poem “Reptilian’s Lament."

Throughout the book we encounter many forms, including a number of list poems. My favorite, “How to Be A Poet,” lists five words, “Breath / Spiders / Boxes / Eyeliner / Thirst,” where the meat of the poem lies in the five endnotes. These structure experiments energize the paintings of these poems, which are mostly written in couplets or triplets. Also in the second section, we see Nezhukmatathil dig into a political poem with “Dear Betty Brown,” shaming the Congresswoman for asking a Chinese man to consider changing his name to something that is simpler for her to pronounce.

If I didn’t change my name for my husband,
I’m certainly not going to change it for you.

Damn straight, Ms. Nezhukumatathil. Damn straight.

Perhaps the most powerful poem is the longest of the section entitled “Birth Geographic” and subtitled “an auto-bio poem sequence.” The poem, written in eighteen sections, begins, “When you give birth, there is no map” and from there on the shape and content grapple with trying to find order in a chaotic, emotional experience. Nezhukumatathil weaves together stories of her parents' births, folklore, bowerbirds, even directions, in between the narrative of giving birth to her son. While she makes it clear that the personal stories of her poems are never held to any truth standard (though the science in her work is always based in fact) this poems brings with it the truth of experience, abandon, manic struggle, elation and fear. I was left breathless.

As someone who loves holding a book, enjoys the feel of paper and glossy covers, I must say that Tupelo continues to make beautiful books. The cover art for this collection, entitled “Mermaid Tail” by Ellen Yeast, an extreme close up of the tail end of a rainbow-colored fish, is lovely in its simple elegance. It is the perfect visual companion to the colorful, flavorful, textured world with which Nezhukumatathil remains fascinated. In fact, that is perhaps what I love most about Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s poetry: she is filled with a childlike playfulness and wonder with the natural world, entranced by its magic and her poems always share that magic with us.

While speaking at AWP about “How a Poem Happens” Nezhukumatathil told the audience to always have a variety of books on your desk; her desk currently held books about seashells and pirates. Everything can go into poems, whether it is the history of the paper, Thanksgiving dinner, Michael Jackson’s former pet monkey Bubbles, or a lucky penny. These people, places and things are all there and Nezhukumatathil is a master at layering details and narratives, braiding together multiple stories or images, and then returning, renewed. After reading her books, I love to go back and sift through the poem-layers, digging through the pages. Her poems make us all “find a way to dig.”

Review originally posted on Dear Outer Space: http://dearouterspace.blogspot.com/20...

[Charlotte Jones · Rating 2 out of 5]

At the beginning of the year, I bought a few books online and this was one of them. I have enjoyed some poetry in the past, mostly war poetry and the Romantics, so I wanted to give some more modern poetry a try and this one looked interesting, not to mention the rave reviews it has received.

Unfortunately there were very few poems in here that I felt a connection to. There were many that I felt were just a bit flat, but luckily the third part was completely different. In the third part, Aimee Nezhukumatathil talks of motherhood and particularly the poem 'The Latch' felt very personal and something I connected with.

Overall, this isn't something I would say I particularly enjoyed but if you are into more modern poetry it may be worth giving a go. Personally this wasn't the kind of poetry that I can get into, but I think that would be different from reader to reader.

[Alarie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I knew I liked Nezhukkumatathil’s poetry, but this book surpassed my expectations. I loved it. It has my usual favorite components of poetry: accessibility, poignancy, surprise, humor, and adds cultural diversity, world travel, and a broad range of subjects. Topics include mosquitos, hedgehogs, moray eels, great apes, ancient beliefs and fables, a pie plate, India, Florida, the Philippines, India, and family life. She also takes us on an emotional journal ranging from the pain and fear of 32 hours in labor to the whimsy of a found poem composed entirely of emails from high school students. The found poem is united by comparisons of Ms. N to Walt Whitman, as though poets of every time are competing in a boxing match:

Some sided with him:

“…I think I like Walt Whitman / better than you, but don’t take offense – you are very good too!”

Some with her:

“…Thank you we have taken a debate / and you are a far better poet than Walt Whitman.”
(“Dear Amy Nehzooukammyatootill”)

She sets up a delightfully romantic poem about new love by choosing quirky details.
“Thanksgiving” begins

“The only year I don’t remember the turkey
was the year I first dined with the man

I would marry. Blessed be the bowl
of sweet potatoes, mallow melted

in a pool of swirly cream. Blessed be no
seating assignments so I could sit

next to him…”

She goes on to confess she doesn’t remember the thanks offered, the china, or linens either,

“…But I’ve committed the soap
and clean blade of his neck to memory.”

The final stanza really touched me, because this wonderful man sounded so much like my husband, but you need to read the entire poem yourself to appreciate what small detail told so much.

One of my favorite poems, “Dear Betty Brown,” is a witty, spicy rebuttal to a U.S. Representative (R-Texas). Ms. Brown is quoted in the epigraph: “Rather than everyone here having to learn a rather difficult language – do you think that it would behoove you…to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?” This poem alone is worth reading the book.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nezhukumatathil writes out of happiness, delight, and a sensuous pleasure of the world. Sometimes I just can't quite believe in such a rosy depiction of life, but well, that's me, a melancholic sort. If you need to recharge yourself with the myriad wonders of love and the natural world, Lucky Fish will inspire you.

[Jonathan Tennis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another recent great find for poetry. I feel like after all the not so great collections, I have finally stumbled into a number of poets / collections that I really enjoy. This is another one that I highly recommend.

My favorites were Mosquitoes, Reptilian’s Lament, How to be a Poet, Thanksgiving, Dear Betty Brown, & Birth Geographic.

[Jessica · Rating 5 out of 5]

I put off reading Aimee Nezhukumatathil's work for years because whenever I read a poet whose work has been as lauded as hers is, I'm disappointed. But there was no disappointment here. Ravishing work with the unusual and exotic shoulder-to-shoulder with the mundane. The imaginative forms, the wordplay. This book, yes!

[Karen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This review is going to be a bit biased, since Aimee and I teach in the same rural area in Western New York, but I have to say that her third full length collection is a great read. From sunny Florida, to the cold winters of Snow Belt New York (in one poem, the narrator states, "It should be/illegal to talk about snow in Western New York now." -- a statement I can really relate to, especially right now when the temperatures are single digits.) Aimee twists the minute details of the world around her to wonder about motherhood, hope, and love. Those who are familiar with her work will reconize some old favorite characters popping up once again, such the narrator's "geriatric dachshund".

Still, there are some new themes intertwined in this newest collection, such as the fears and hope of motherhood. In one poem, "Hedgehog" the narrator explains that she finds in The Book of Pregnancy Folklore that "if you accidently step on a hedgehog/while you are pregnant, you'll give birth//to a baby and a tiny hedgehog." A funny image at first, but the poem relays other fears and wonderment about pregnancy and motherhood. In another poem, "Birth Geographic" the narrator explains, "It is said if a mother is craving oily or fried foods, the baby will be a boy." The speaker pauses and then admits, "I only craved sleep, so I thought/for sure I would give birth to a pillow."

In summary, this third collection showcases Aimee's voice and range. Still, if you are new to her work, I would recommend reading her first two books, Miracle Fruit and At the Drive-In Volcano. In this way you can really see the scope of her work.

Fugu Soup Blues is from her second collection:
http://www.fishousepoems.org/archives...

"Touchpool" is one of my favorites. It is also from her second collection

http://www.vqronline.org/articles/200...

2nd Avenue Poetry has seven poems published, including "Corpse Flower" which is from Lucky Fish:

http://2ndavepoetry.com/2ndAve_2/neza...

[Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

Luminous, delicious, evoking delight in odd places. This may be my favorite book of poetry for 2012, even though the year has just started. Family, lands far away and near, sea creatures and all kinds of fruit and food abound in her surprising imagery. I really enjoy poetry that's accessible and easy-to-read as a children's book--warm, hospitable poetry that invites the reader into a wondrous world, without the iron gates of pretension.

"Lucky Fish" is not simplistic, though. It's the equivalent of a colorfully-patterned dress, but cut in a classic shape.

This book is like the gorgeous, tantalizing home cooking of an immigrant chef, who serves plate after plate of glorious food, with some unfamiliar spices mixed into the staples. It's possible you'll sigh or salivate after reading these finely tuned poems.

Can you imagine the number of bouquets, how many
slices of cake? Even now, my husbands plan a great meal
for us—one chops up some parsley, one stirs a bubbling pot
on the stove.

Sometimes it feels like she's pulling out a fascinating toy from a well-traveled suitcase, like the red paper lucky fish that curls in your hands as if by magic. Other times, it feels like she interjects snapshots and sensations of family life and relationships. Her imaginative language is filled with secrets, superstition and the sacred.

"Lucky Fish" is grounded in the everyday, but expect some exhilarating cartwheels of the absurd. My exact favorite type of poetry.

[Gayle · Rating 5 out of 5]

"With luck and life" were the serendipitous words written on the inside cover of my book-give-away as a gift from Aimee Nezhukumatathil herself. I read this book surrounded by recently acquired fish in my own life; a friend's fertility token, a Koi fish, that moves its metal scales around my neck; a teapot from my sister with in-lays of water marks; and then a copy of Lucky Fish via mail. It's poems of transformation, the creation of happiness, everyday thanksgivings, and the very real and honest moments of a woman traveling through various bodies of water in life left me feeling slick and refreshed as a new fish jumping through waves of verse with delicious words. My heart ached a bit over "The Latch," "The Light I Collect," "Kottayam Morning," and "At the Center for Retired Apes" for all of their familiarity. I was transported from her images to my own and felt a bond between author and reader as if they were written for me from an old, dear friend or sister. "Pie Plate," "Baked Goods," and "Twelve Twelve," for being both literally and figuratively mouth watering. Lastly, lots of gratitude for "Mosquitoes," "Thanksgiving," and "Suppose You Were a Moray Eel" for being my favorites. I am grateful for Aimee's perspective of everything beautiful for she truly views the world as an ocean full of gifts, tumbling to her on various beaches. I feel lucky to have had her collection of poems wash up on my mountainous shores of snow and cold, to read again and again.

[Therese L. Broderick · Rating 4 out of 5]

Having read the several thorough and discerning comments already posted here on Goodreads, I'm now adding only a few of my own idiosyncratic responses to "Lucky Fish."

In the acknowledgments at the back of her book, A.N. thanks the helpful employees of the Georgia Aquarium and the Monterey Aquarium. She is endlessly curious about all matters aqueous, and many of the poems in "Lucky Fish" explore various waterworlds: the habitats of sea creatures, island-based cultures and superstitions, pregnant women's floating wombs.

She also examines frozen water. The declaration "I am a lucky fish" appears on line 9 of the poem "Foosh" (sounds like "fish") which is about both the real physical hazards of skating on thin ice and the metaphoric risks of love.

Yes, water can be deadly. But in A.N.'s world, water can also be regenerative. The declaration "I was a fish, a happy fish" appears in section 12 of the poem "Birth Geographic," a section which captures the moment she gives birth to her son who "smelled like the sea."

As a tourist who visited the Georgia Aquarium in 2010, I recommend this appealing book to anyone who, like me, quivers with delight while eyeballing a fish.

[Shannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have fallen in love with Aimee Nezhukumatathil; her gorgeous poems flow with the pulse of life--love, pregnancy, child-bearing, child-raising, and the agonizing anticipation of death. Each poem tells an intriguing story--sometimes the title alone ("The Mascot of Beavercreek High Breaks Her Silence," "Suppose You Were a Moray Eel")--about little girls growing up near a mental asylum or a tower in India where birds feed on the dead.

Every poet should read "Birth Geographic."

[Elizabeth Wolf · Rating 4 out of 5]

Loved this book, which was a gift from my brother. “Thanksgiving” is a wonderful love poem with exquisite details. “Dear Amy Nehzooukammyatootill” is a found poem that captures the high school poetry experience, and the pairing with the following “Are All The Breakups In Your Poem Real?” was perfect. I marked so many poems in this collection. “Twelve/Twelve/Twelve”, “The Secret Of Soil”. Stop reading this review and go get the book.

[elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Birth Geographic" blew me away: "The center of my hands boiled/ with blossoms when we made a family. I would never flee that garden. I swear to/ you here and now: If I ever go missing, know that I am trying to come home.”

To these shapeless winter days, Aimee Nezhukumatathil brings color and light and wonder bright as a lucky penny.

[Susan Rich · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic!

[Roxanne · Rating 5 out of 5]

From India to the Philippines to Kansas to New York, from childhood to motherhood, from papaya to snakeskin to soil, Aimee Nezhukumatathil's Lucky Fish dives into the nature of place, beauty, and identity through closely observed details.
The first section of Lucky Fish focuses on travel. In "A Globe is Just an Asterisk...," Nezhukumatathil describes her childhood globe, then takes us on a guided tour around it: not just the islands and rivers and mountains, not just the clams and parrots and creatures who live in those places, but the secrets they contain. The narrator of these poems works to make sense of the different customs and landscapes she traverses. In poems like "Corpse Flower" and "The Feathered Cape of Kechi," she relates the myths of the places she visits: wild, dreamlike tales in which it's possible for a boy to be transformed into a bird and a flower to refuse its name. Other poems, like "Four Amulets for a Frightened Farmer" and "If You Find Yourself on a Houseboat," provide mysterious instructions for safely navigating the way.

This is the beginning of my review of this excellent book - the full review will be published in Calyx this winter!

[Jordan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really enjoyed the imagery that Aimee Nezhukumatathil uses -- so many moments seemed broken in a beautiful way. I found her to be a lot more lyric than I usually enjoy reading, but she keeps things grounded in a narrative way and that was helpful. I read it for class, but I do think I would have given it a chance on my own had I picked it up in a bookstore. The cover is definitely reflective of the work inside. It's beautiful, vibrant, in motion, and it's also keeping a little something hidden from the reader.

Overall, it'd definitely worth the read. Just not one that particularly moved me or will stand out as a favorite.

[Helen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poems about love, family, and belonging with an Asian American slant, using the folklore and imagery of China, India, and the Philippines to explore the birth of a son, teenage angst, and the ire when a US senator proclaims your last name unpronounceable.

In her found poem of emails from high school students, some of the teens proclaim Nezhukumatahil's poetry better than Whitman's, and I'm prone to agree.

[Sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Spectactual book, particularly the final third. The voice is wonderful and entertaining. The only thing that makes the final poems that much better is the emotional punch they pack. Well worth the read entirely.

[Christopher Lehman · Rating 5 out of 5]

A gorgeous collection of poems traversing the world, as Aimee's work often does. Following, at times, a young wife embarking on the journey of motherhood. Crisp language, surprising images. So many hits in this one, "Mosquitoes" for example, rips my heart out every time.

[Justin Hall · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really great poetry. Easy to read and some really thought provoking poems as well. Had a few of them that I really liked and I am not a poetry person at all. Got to listen to her read some live in Tampa and that was really great too :)

yours,
Justin

[Ja'net · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to like this more. Aimee Nez's use of language is stunning, but I just couldn't connect with the sugary sweet depictions of love, motherhood, and breastfeeding. Not my bag.

[Richard Leis · Rating 5 out of 5]

Aimee Nezhukumatathil's most recent collection of poems (I think) concerns itself with autobiography, genealogy, geography, relationships, motherhood, and nature, among other topics. I love her sense of humor; poems like "Dear Amy Nehzooukammyatootill" and "The Mascot of Beavercreek High Breaks Her Silence" include unexpected humor along with more serious, lonely, and heartbreaking observations and revelations. I know when poems are working for me when the images suddenly erupt in vivid virtual reality in my mind and I gasp; several poems in this collection had those effects on me. It took a few readings of the first stanza in "A Globe is Just an Asterisk and Every Home Should Have an Asterisk" before the asterisk-shape of a flat cut-out of a globe in manufacture that would later be "pressed into a sphere" arrived in my mind's eye, and I immediately loved that image. I was also really impressed by how she taught me to read with early poems poems later in the collection. For example, there's a description of witches as wearers of eel-skin in an early poem that I recalled when a woman in a later poem was described as wearing eel-skin.

Nezhukamatathil is reading at the University of Arizona Poetry Center next week and I wanted to sample some of her work before then. Pleased to discover in the process a new favorite poet. I also read her collaboration with Ross Gay, Lace & Pyrite, which was also fantastic.

[Ceallaigh · Rating 5 out of 5]

“I am a lucky fish. The kind that curls up red
and flimsy in your hand. And the broken center
of it is a spiderweb, threaded through a chico tree
to catch bats.

…When I hear his name,

I put my hand over my heart when no one
is looking. I want to shield my heart
from that familiar ache, save it, and I do—
with my little sorry and broken bones.”

— from “FOOSH”

TITLE—Lucky Fish
AUTHOR—Aimee Nezhukumatathil
PUBLISHED—2011
PUBLISHER—Tupelo Press

GENRE—poetry
MAIN THEMES/SUBJECTS—memory, food & cooking, wisdom in Nature, love & family, diaspora (esp Indian & Filipino) experiences, motherhood, non-humans as teachers, beauty & comfort as unexpected subversions, travel & cultural displacement, marginalization in western nations, food as spiritual nourishment & identity affirmation, Florida, weather, fruit trees, whispered legends & mythology

“Before a globe is pressed into a sphere,
the shape of the paper is an asterisk.

…I tried to pinch the widest part

of the Pacific Ocean, the distance between me
and India, me and the Philippines. The space

between the shorelines was too wide. My hand
was always empty when it came to land, to knowing

where is home. I dip my hands in the sea. I net
nothing but seaweed and a single, dizzy smelt.”

— from “A GLOBE IS JUST AN ASTERISK AND EVERY HOME SHOULD HAVE AN ASTERISK”

My thoughts:
Aimee Nezhukumatathil has been one of my alltime favorite poets since I first read her work in a college poetry class taught by the pulitzer-prize winning poet Gregory Pardlo. I love how she plays with form and language and how different each of her poems is from the next. I love how you can read any of her poems a dozen different times and each time it will look a little different, its shape and meaning changing the way light changes depending on the time of day or where it touches down to the earth or water. Reading her poems is like looking at a stereogram, or through a screened door, or through rain on a window.

My especial favorites on this reading were “BAKED GOODS”, “ARE ALL THE BREAK-UPS IN YOUR POEMS REAL?”, “THE GHOST-FISH POSTCARDS”, and “ECLIPSE”. Diving right in to a reread of my favorite of her collections—AT THE DRIVE-IN VOLCANO—next.

“I loved you dark & late. The crocus have found ways to push up & say this too. The ribbon of my arm’s length cannot reach you, & truth be told, should not. You are not the extra rain that floods out worm & bird from the new nests. You are the rain that arrived like a telegraph, too late, too late.” — from “THE GHOST-FISH POSTCARDS”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

CW // childbirth (Please feel free to DM me for more specifics!)

Further Reading—
- AT THE DRIVE-IN VOLCANO, by Aimee Nezhukumatathil
- NIGHT IS A SHARKSKIN DRUM, by Haunani-Kay Trask
- ASK THE BRINDLED, by No’u Revilla—TBR
- A SMALL PLACE, by Jamaica Kincaid
- AT THE BOTTOM OF THE RIVER, by Jamaica Kincaid
- EVERYONE KNOWS I AM A HAUNTING, by Shivanee Ramlochan
- GARDENING IN THE TROPICS, by Olive Senior
- HURRICANE WATCH, by Olive Senior—TBR

[Jeannie · Rating 5 out of 5]

From the poem, Sweet Tooth.

Snakebites are as quizzical as tiramisu.
Your brother is as firey as baked Alaska.
Peace is as cloudy as rice pudding.
War is as sour as guanabana sherbet.
Fashion faux pas are as passe as canapes.
Suntans are as superfluous as a cream puff.
Revenge is as layered as trifle.
Writing poems is as necessary as a cupcake.
Marriage is a holy as meringue.
A sick infant is as woebegone as a plum tart.
Friendship is as pleasing as buttermilk panna cotta.
Romance is as righteous as leche flan.
Foresight is as benign as beignets.
Wrinkles are as delectable as payasam pudding.
Stockings are disconsolate as pear cobbler.
Dimples are as wholesome as a chocolate chip cookie.
Park benches are as amiable as pistachio shortbread.
Pride is as wicked as a spice bonbon.
Envelopes are as pensive as apricot compote.
A staircase is as chivalrous as raspberry granita.
Truth is as marvelous as strawberry shortcake.
An elm tree is as gallant as a mint ice cream terrine.
Pumpkins are as convivial as snickerdoodles.
When you hold my hand on a windy day
while I am wearing my violet coat and tangerine
scarf, and perhaps a squirrel is raining walnut debris
from the top of a telephone pole-I am as jubilant as
butterscotch budino drenched with rum, dusted
with cocoa powder and topped with whipped creme fraiche.

[Alaíde Ventura · Rating 3 out of 5]

Después de terminar la segunda parte, por poco vengo a ponerle dos estrellas, pero como soy respetuosa (o tengo la conciencia gremial muy pesada) me dediqué a la tercera parte durante la madrugada. Menos mal, porque francamente mejoró.

Me gustan la ternura y la delicadeza, sí, y me parecen valientes, pero hay muchas secciones donde siento que la voz se infantiliza y eso no, no se vale. Específicamente, cuando recurre a la segunda persona y al recurso de hacer preguntas falsamente ingenuas. Me da tirria. También hay muchas partes donde se nota que hizo un trabajo enciclopédico, que buscó el contenido que se adaptara a la forma, y yo respeto porque también hago eso, pero ps qué te digo, no funcionó para mí.

Eso sí, hay verdaderas joyas a lo largo del libro. Las subrayé, las cité en mi blog y eso es todo.

[Fiona · Rating 5 out of 5]

Pennies, sweets, soils, what is eaten, names, mothering, eels, reptiles, summers infinities.


From “The Secret of Soil”:
“The secret of soul is that it is alive—
a step in the forest means
you are carried on the back
of a thousand bugs.”

“I held

them to my thin brown neck,
I wanted my mouth to fill
with light, a rush of rind
and pepper. I Can still taste it

like a dare across a railroad track,
sure with feet-solid steps. I’m not
allowed to be alone with scissors.
I will always find a way to dig.”

Favorites:
The Secret of Soil
Letters Found at the Tower of Silence
Kottayam Morning
The Soils I Have Eaten

TWELVE / TWELVE / TWELVE
The Mascot of Beavercreek High Breaks Her Silence
How to Be a Poet
Baked Goods
Dear Amy Nehzooukammyatootill
The Ghost Fish Postcards

Hedgehog
Birth Geographic
The Light I Collect

[Justin Goodman · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you've read Oceanic, At The Drive-In Volcano, or Miracle Fruit you've read these poems. Nezhukumatathil is a consistently sensuous and genuine poet committed to selfhood and how identity itself shifts with connections in miraculous, celebratory ways. It's best summed up in two lines from "If You Find Yourself On A Houseboat": "there is no mystery on water/greater than the absence of rust."

If you don't click with some of these poems - or they click like a skipping record, as for me - then you probably won't fully click with any of them. Out of all these poems, I would recommend reading "Birth Geographic" to capture the feeling of the collection as a whole. The mystery, and the absence of rust.

[J · Rating 4 out of 5]

Something Nezhukumatathil is so good at is taking the mundane and crafting them into something utterly magical with vibrant imagery. A lot of her poems focused on motherhood (pregnancy, parenting, the likes), but there were other themes that came up here and there that tied to racial/cultural identity, primarily.

I thought Nezhukumatathil’s food-related poems were the strongest (and there were quite a few), as they really brought out the sweetness and warmth of her words found throughout this collection.

Some favorites: “Pie Plate,” “Inside a Diorama,” “Fruit Thievery: A Lament,” “Sweet Tooth,” “Baked Goods,” “Dear Amy Nehzooukammyatootill,” “Dear Betty Brown,” “The Ghost-Fish Postcards,” “Notes for the Heartbeat at my Feet,” and “Toy Universe”

Read for the Sealey Challenge.