#19-2018

It’s a violent piece of work, but not in a way which is unnecessarily ugly or bombastic. It’s got substance to it, this little book does. I have notes on each of the poems because it was little and I could, so bear with me while I rave about the particulars of each.

“When Rome Falls” was the first. It opens the collection beautifully; it reminded me a little of Madeline Miller’s Song of Achilles. My favorite quote was “You want to kill me more than anyone else. / That’s what love is, baby.” The images in “When Rome Falls” were the impressive part to me. I don’t know that I ever felt like I was looking at a full picture, but the pieces were all so intensely felt that I didn’t mind.

“When Rome Falls” was followed by “Hunter’s Moon”, which was good despite packing less of an immediate punch. I have a tendency to latch on to viscerally bloody poems and “Hunter’s Moon” had a little more quiet bitterness to it that took a minute to appreciate. The language in this poem, in fact, was a little dirty; full of innuendo, it was irreverent and passionate. One passage in particular stood out— “but you can get down on / your knees if you think it still means / something. / And you can swallow / the moon if you / still want it.” 

“Orleans” I assume was about Joan of Arc—the discussion of martyrs was one that connected through the collection, although I wasn’t sure what the speaker’s objectives really were in the poem. “a body capable of living / or to be made / in the image of a Saint...”, although I’m not sure what made the body a broken or hostile environment in the first place. (I also was getting a little phallic imagery from this poem but at this point it’s almost 4 am and my mind is definitely in the gutter)

“Kaiein (to burn)” had the knockouts “I am still a thing / afraid of itself—a steel trap / with no teeth” and “it was enough / until it wasn’t enough. I was / enough, until I wasn’t.” Pretty much enough said there, although the scattered fragments across the page (not left-aligned) captured something intrinsic about the ‘shattered’ nature of grief and also reminded me of fire.

“Iphigenia at Aulis” was a 4 part poem that was my second favorite (a close second to “The Miracle Mile”)—notable moments include, “A deer climbs the altar / and slits her own / throat.” and “we say sacrifice. / we mean murder. / our lips are / red for a reason.” Another bloody poem, “Iphigenia” takes a beautiful, terrible image and inverts it—refracts it off itself to take a closer look at blame, at who is responsible for sacrifice and who is culpable for the blood of martyrs. Gorgeous poem.

Finally, and best, “The Miracle Mile”, which pulls together imagery from the previous poems in a unified masterpiece. “Miracle Mile” sets the chaotic destruction of the previous poems in a dying relationship and it is Absolutely Visceral without being sentimental or overdramatic. It uses cool structural elements (within-line line breaks, for example) to force a multiplicity of readings. It’s a condemnation and a confession, and it’s a really lovely piece of work. Beautifully rendered. Go read it.

Yves Olade’s tumblr and Bloodsport can be found here--go follow, go read, go forth.