Cliff Fell

For the most part, this is a very good collection. Well constructed, well written. There are some lovely lines – ‘Stars tighten / in the turning sky’ (“On Millennium Creek”), ‘The cottonwoods taking root in your chest // And inside your skull, a canyon wren’s nest’ (“Song #3”), ‘then my love – / the one with trails of morning glory / caught in her long dark hair’ (“Beauty of the Badlands”), ‘the farmlands in winter / pale with the frost, pale with the holding on’ (“Return”). There are a number of love poems woven through the collection. My favourite, “In Mexico City”, ends

as the one we’d thought already asleep
came crawling in secret across the deep
canyon between her perfect bed and ours-
hoping to catch us, the lovers she once was.

As you can see, Fell is very good with slant rhyme, and the poems are almost all a pleasure to read aloud. There are quite a few consciously (post)modernist poems, weaving together disparate snippets of information and tone. It’s a risky strategy, but does pay off in the book’s two key poems: “The M at the End of the Earth” and “At Bosque del Apache”.

It’s ambitious, musical, and interesting. Force yourself past the garish cover and ignore the backcover blurb. Make it your own journey. He’s good company.

(The full review can be read here.)… (altro)