Poetry Readers Challenge discussion
Reviews 2012
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The Book of Men by Dorianne Laux
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Enjoyed that, Philip. Interesting how she uses "and" to make it even more of a "list" type poem. Some good lines. I agree about the nape of the neck. A beautiful part of the body, and often exposed for all to see!
Thanks for reviewing. I haven't read much Laux.
Thanks for reviewing. I haven't read much Laux.
Hi there I have never heard of her but like the poem very much. I often prefer poems that tell a story or show a picture to those that play with words and images too much. Maybe my problem is that I do not understand all the underlying meanings of images used as English is not my mother tongue. Thanks for the tip
I just checked out your list, Laura, and it looks really interesting.And Dorianne Laux has excellent taste as a critic, too!
Melissa wrote: "I've admired Dorianne Laux for a few years now. She writes with clarity and asperity and candor. I appreciate her way of interweaving the observational with the personal. She expres..."Thanks Sherry!
Melissa wrote: "I've admired Dorianne Laux for a few years now. She writes with clarity and asperity and candor. I appreciate her way of interweaving the observational with the personal. She expres..."I mean thanks Melissa!!
Authors mentioned in this topic
Dorianne Laux (other topics)Dorianne Laux (other topics)
Dorianne Laux (other topics)






The Book of Men was published in 2010. There are at least half a dozen very strong poems in its two sections. My favorites include Staff Sgt. Metz, Men, Antilamentation, Dark Charms, Roots, and a couple about her struggling with her mother's dementia, Lost in Costco and Mother's Day.
But the one I want to share here opens part 2 -- The Secret of Backs:
Heels of the shoes worn down, each
in its own way, sending signals to the spine.
The back of the knee as it folds and unfolds.
In winter the creases of American-made jeans:
blue denim seams worried to white threads.
And in summer, in spring, beneath the hems
of skirts, Bermudas, old bathing suit elastic,
the pleating and unpleating of parchment skin.
And the dear, dear rears. Such variety! Such
choice in how to cover or reveal: belts looped high
or slung so low you can't help but think of plumbers.
And the small of the back: dimpled or taut, spiny or not,
tattooed, butterflied, rosed, winged, whorled. Maybe
still pink from the needle and the ink. And shoulders,
broad or rolled, poking through braids, dreads, frothy
waterfalls of uncut hair, exposed to rain, snow, white
stars of dandruff, unbrushed flecks on a blue-black coat.
And the spiral near the top of the head—
peek of scalp, exquisite galaxy—as if the first breach
swirled each firmament away from that startled center.
Ah, but the best are the bald or the neatly shorn, revealing
the flanged, sun-flared, flamboyant backs of ears: secret
as the undersides of leaves, the flipside of flower petals.
And oh, the oh my nape of the neck. The up-swept oh my
nape of the neck. I could walk behind anyone and fall in love.
Don't stop. Don't turn around.