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lsparrow's review
3.0
I found the titles and the poems that were structures more like paragraphs difficult in this collection.
codi_codi's review
5.0
Conjecture On The Nature Of Inconvenience (p. 48)
"If I pull the hanged man's card on new year's eve, then I am tell-
ing on myself.
If the body is said to be either or , then I am telling on
myself.
If the body is said to be either or , then there is a liminal-
ity unaccounted for.
If there is an unaccounted liminality, then there is a disposses-
sion.
If there is a body dispossessed, then there is a hole in the
language.
If there is a hole in the language, then I am slipping through,
stealing away.
If I am slipping, then I;m not on my way anywhere.
If I'm not on my way anywhere, then I can be a kind of futility.
If I am futile, then I am a fugitive against the idea of linear
movement.
If I am against movement, then I am against passing for.
If I am passing, then I am a boy.
If I am a boy, then I am holding something stolen.
If I'm assumed to be holding something stolen, then I am in an
elevator in new york.
If I'm in an elevator in new york, then I am about to look down
the throat of a gun.
If the gun doesn't speak, then I'mstill here lucky.
If I'm lucky, then she wasn't crying when she called the cops on
me.
If the neighbor called the cops on me, then I never saw her that
morning.
If she never saw me, then I am a theory of myself.
If I am an unsubstantiated claim, then I am a figment of her
anxiety.
If I am a figment, then my death would be inconsequential.
If I didn't die, then she will send me flowers apologising for her
inconvenience.
If I was already an inconvenience to the language, then she is
right.
If she is right, then there is an elsewhere to which I belong.
If there is an elsewhere, then there is a clearing in the woods.
If there are woods, then there is a ground that abstains ruin.
If there is a ground, then there are bodies beneath it.
If the bodies know my name, then I am said to be protected.
If I am spoken for, then I could've died a number of times.
If I am still here, then I am speaking for the dirt.
If there is dirt, then there is my mouth wet and ripe with
questions."
"If I pull the hanged man's card on new year's eve, then I am tell-
ing on myself.
If the body is said to be either or , then I am telling on
myself.
If the body is said to be either or , then there is a liminal-
ity unaccounted for.
If there is an unaccounted liminality, then there is a disposses-
sion.
If there is a body dispossessed, then there is a hole in the
language.
If there is a hole in the language, then I am slipping through,
stealing away.
If I am slipping, then I;m not on my way anywhere.
If I'm not on my way anywhere, then I can be a kind of futility.
If I am futile, then I am a fugitive against the idea of linear
movement.
If I am against movement, then I am against passing for.
If I am passing, then I am a boy.
If I am a boy, then I am holding something stolen.
If I'm assumed to be holding something stolen, then I am in an
elevator in new york.
If I'm in an elevator in new york, then I am about to look down
the throat of a gun.
If the gun doesn't speak, then I'm
If I'm lucky, then she wasn't crying when she called the cops on
me.
If the neighbor called the cops on me, then I never saw her that
morning.
If she never saw me, then I am a theory of myself.
If I am an unsubstantiated claim, then I am a figment of her
anxiety.
If I am a figment, then my death would be inconsequential.
If I didn't die, then she will send me flowers apologising for her
inconvenience.
If I was already an inconvenience to the language, then she is
right.
If she is right, then there is an elsewhere to which I belong.
If there is an elsewhere, then there is a clearing in the woods.
If there are woods, then there is a ground that abstains ruin.
If there is a ground, then there are bodies beneath it.
If the bodies know my name, then I am said to be protected.
If I am spoken for, then I could've died a number of times.
If I am still here, then I am speaking for the dirt.
If there is dirt, then there is my mouth wet and ripe with
questions."
afroabsurdist's review
adventurous
challenging
dark
emotional
funny
hopeful
informative
inspiring
lighthearted
mysterious
reflective
relaxing
sad
tense
medium-paced
5.0
maedae4's review
challenging
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
4.75
It took me a long time to get through this because the poems are so complex to me. I had to make myself sit down and read it. Each poem demanded a lot of my attention and thought and time, and I knew they deserved no less. But every time I sat down and granted them all that they deserved, I was always grateful I did.
These poems were such a good challenge because Taylor Johnson doesn't write in a linear manner. That is to say that their language isn't structured like sentences are--there aren't always clear subjects, verbs, and complete thoughts. There are a lot of fragments and snatches of thoughts that sit next to each other like neighbors in a collage. Normally, fragments can bother me. But Johnson is so damn deliberate and expressive in the way they weave these thoughts and half-thoughts together that I loved this use of language. It made the poems like lyrics, but if the music element-- the final piece that completes the partial thought--is something you have to make in your own head as the reader.
On a similar note, Johnson relies heavily on the space between language and thought, and trusts you to bridge the gap. (I'm pulling some of this language from "On My Way to You.") There is a lot of trust there, and also a lot of privacy--because Johnson isn't telling me everything about what it is to be them in whatever space they're inhabiting. They're trusting a) that I will Get It and b) that perhaps they themselves don't have to arrive upon concrete answers. There's a beautiful, wise restraint to that. I really respect it.
On a micro level, the use of language in this volume is just beyond. It's so creative. From the first poem, I was struck by how unique Johnson's voice is. That's part of why I took so long to read it--I had never read ideas conveyed the way Johnson conveys them, so I had to really sit with it and savor it. If I started pulling quotes here, I would be quoting the whole book, which absolutely shimmers with beauty that is at once blunt and opaque, pastoral and urban.
Thematically, I loved inhabiting the settings Johnson describes, and I see a really interesting tension between wanting to be present in those settings and present in a given body and wanting to transcend the physical into a felt sense. One poem that I'm thinking of now is "Pennsylvania Ave. SE," which conveys a very particular, liminal space of being nonbinary, in between desiring someone and desiring to be like them. In this poem and many others there is a wonderful tension between concrete language and settings--bike-riding and hot summers and people-watching--and abstract ideas of gender, capitalism, inner peace, big things we may want to either find or destroy. Johnson is using the poems, maybe, to find and/or destroy the frightening forces they're implicating.
I am eager to share Taylor Johnson with my loved ones, and I am eager to spend more time with their particular written voice as well: sparse but thoughtful, loving and critical, intimate but distant, grounded and transcendent, and wholly unlike any poet I've read before.
These poems were such a good challenge because Taylor Johnson doesn't write in a linear manner. That is to say that their language isn't structured like sentences are--there aren't always clear subjects, verbs, and complete thoughts. There are a lot of fragments and snatches of thoughts that sit next to each other like neighbors in a collage. Normally, fragments can bother me. But Johnson is so damn deliberate and expressive in the way they weave these thoughts and half-thoughts together that I loved this use of language. It made the poems like lyrics, but if the music element-- the final piece that completes the partial thought--is something you have to make in your own head as the reader.
On a similar note, Johnson relies heavily on the space between language and thought, and trusts you to bridge the gap. (I'm pulling some of this language from "On My Way to You.") There is a lot of trust there, and also a lot of privacy--because Johnson isn't telling me everything about what it is to be them in whatever space they're inhabiting. They're trusting a) that I will Get It and b) that perhaps they themselves don't have to arrive upon concrete answers. There's a beautiful, wise restraint to that. I really respect it.
On a micro level, the use of language in this volume is just beyond. It's so creative. From the first poem, I was struck by how unique Johnson's voice is. That's part of why I took so long to read it--I had never read ideas conveyed the way Johnson conveys them, so I had to really sit with it and savor it. If I started pulling quotes here, I would be quoting the whole book, which absolutely shimmers with beauty that is at once blunt and opaque, pastoral and urban.
Thematically, I loved inhabiting the settings Johnson describes, and I see a really interesting tension between wanting to be present in those settings and present in a given body and wanting to transcend the physical into a felt sense. One poem that I'm thinking of now is "Pennsylvania Ave. SE," which conveys a very particular, liminal space of being nonbinary, in between desiring someone and desiring to be like them. In this poem and many others there is a wonderful tension between concrete language and settings--bike-riding and hot summers and people-watching--and abstract ideas of gender, capitalism, inner peace, big things we may want to either find or destroy. Johnson is using the poems, maybe, to find and/or destroy the frightening forces they're implicating.
I am eager to share Taylor Johnson with my loved ones, and I am eager to spend more time with their particular written voice as well: sparse but thoughtful, loving and critical, intimate but distant, grounded and transcendent, and wholly unlike any poet I've read before.
kennethwade's review
3.75
The gender stuff is really good. In fact, all the political moments feel worldly and aware without being heavy-handed or preachy. There are other times, though, when the poems feel a bit self-important or obtuse for the sake of it.