The Unraveling

Each of the poems in the book describes an unraveling of one kind or another: of a marriage, of a society trapped by a pandemic, of a country and a world coming undone. Sometimes whimsical, sometimes bereft, but always honest, these poems are compressed, language-centered testaments to the difficulties of life in our time, not just here in the U.S. but wherever “the weathervane spins in uneasy wind.” These poems traverse the world, from Boston to Mississippi, from Scotland to France to Tuscany and beyond, to “distant places no planes fly to.” There’s an urgency to these poems, not only in how they depict both inner and outer worlds, but in how they’re constructed—not a word is wasted, and the most urgent of these lyrics appear to rush across and down the page, their lines enjambed, their interior rhymes almost riddles, as if by rhyming they might find answers in repetition. Many of the poems are centered on human relationships both distant and close, on romantic love and how it can unexpectedly unravel, “the smell of your perfume still in the air.” In the end, the real center of these poems is emotional truth, as it applies to individuals and to the population at large, and how that truth can make or break us. There’s darkness here—how could there not be on a planet dissolving before our eyes—but there’s also hope that humans can come together again to piece together the broken world.