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buttermellow's review against another edition
sad
slow-paced
3.0
Content Warnings
Moderate: Drug use
casparb's review against another edition
4.0
A saucy little number and one much appreciated. MD has A Voice that is distinctly american and queer and elastic. Cadence control is everything here and the way Mark makes sense of that delights me
annevoi's review against another edition
5.0
I had the good fortune of taking a weeklong workshop with Mark Doty last fall. There, he read poems from this collection, and he also spoke about the making of one of them, how it failed to finalize until one day, suddenly.
These poems are achingly beautiful, precise, full of feeling—the sorts of feelings that we all feel: loss, despair, desire, joy, hope, wonder, vulnerability, regret. His focus is on the everyday, on home, his own life. In one, "This Your Home Now," he writes of going to the barber. There, he thinks of "layers of men, / arrayed in their no-longer-breathing ranks" and muses on how well he has lived in his grief for them; he ends:
. . . Could I be a little satisfied?
There's a man who loves me. Our dogs. Fifteen,
twenty more good years, if I'm a bit careful.
There's what I haven't written. It's sunny out,
though cold. . . .
Many of the poems are titled "Deep Lane," after the place he lives on Long Island. These poems often feature his golden retriever, Ned, or his garden or the local cemetery. They are deeply intimate and sensory, such that you almost forget you are reading a poem; rather, you are in the poem with Mark, marveling as he marvels, feeling as he feels, stopping time for that instant.
These poems are achingly beautiful, precise, full of feeling—the sorts of feelings that we all feel: loss, despair, desire, joy, hope, wonder, vulnerability, regret. His focus is on the everyday, on home, his own life. In one, "This Your Home Now," he writes of going to the barber. There, he thinks of "layers of men, / arrayed in their no-longer-breathing ranks" and muses on how well he has lived in his grief for them; he ends:
. . . Could I be a little satisfied?
There's a man who loves me. Our dogs. Fifteen,
twenty more good years, if I'm a bit careful.
There's what I haven't written. It's sunny out,
though cold. . . .
Many of the poems are titled "Deep Lane," after the place he lives on Long Island. These poems often feature his golden retriever, Ned, or his garden or the local cemetery. They are deeply intimate and sensory, such that you almost forget you are reading a poem; rather, you are in the poem with Mark, marveling as he marvels, feeling as he feels, stopping time for that instant.
dotorsojak's review against another edition
4.0
Some stunning poems in this collection, e.g. “Deep lane: June 23rd,” and “Apparition: at the kitchen sink,” and “Meadow Church.” Some less successful too (e.g. “This Your Home Now”). Overall a superb set
prettywittyandgay's review against another edition
emotional
inspiring
reflective
relaxing
slow-paced
4.75
macford's review against another edition
5.0
Some of my favorite bits and pieces:
on his ex:
"nearly every day he copies something he likes
simply to add more beauty to the world"
on picking radishes in the garden:
"...drives through silt possibility from nothing into wet
dirt-speckled presence:
the two impossible bundles of thunder we're holding."
on Jackson Pollock:
"he rode the huge engine of his attention toward silence"
on a one-armed man doing pull-ups:
"sleeve of--sparrows?--and morning glories
swelling with each upward pull"
on a boy in therapy/rehab after attempting suicide:
"The new and towering boy in outpatient
folds the lavish scaffold of himself
into a smallish chair as though..."
on riding a motorcycle:
"the kind man's dark leather back in front of you"
My favorite poems were Spent, Apparition (the one about his mom), Immanence, Underworld, and Deep Lane (trying to pick radishes). One of my new favorite writers.
on his ex:
"nearly every day he copies something he likes
simply to add more beauty to the world"
on picking radishes in the garden:
"...drives through silt possibility from nothing into wet
dirt-speckled presence:
the two impossible bundles of thunder we're holding."
on Jackson Pollock:
"he rode the huge engine of his attention toward silence"
on a one-armed man doing pull-ups:
"sleeve of--sparrows?--and morning glories
swelling with each upward pull"
on a boy in therapy/rehab after attempting suicide:
"The new and towering boy in outpatient
folds the lavish scaffold of himself
into a smallish chair as though..."
on riding a motorcycle:
"the kind man's dark leather back in front of you"
My favorite poems were Spent, Apparition (the one about his mom), Immanence, Underworld, and Deep Lane (trying to pick radishes). One of my new favorite writers.
thndrkat's review against another edition
5.0
Life, death, beauty, loneliness, desire, wonder... these poems have all that and striking, evocative, visual language.
justy_sto's review against another edition
4.0
"if you don't hold still, you can have joy after joy,
but you can't stay anywhere to love."
Earthy, slow, grounded. I enjoyed it.
but you can't stay anywhere to love."
Earthy, slow, grounded. I enjoyed it.
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