Bag om turpentine
This masterful poetry extinguishes those artificial lines that distinguish a moment from a century. It is all here and available to us, Mark Young shows. "A late/afternoon/point of co-/incidence // this bench/in the/Botanical Gardens/shared/with Desnos/& Diogenes" reminds us nature crafts consciousness right back at us. "Black cockatoos . . .small white flowers." This against the beautiful political purity of stating the truth in "damp trumpets."
Quote from final poem, DAMP TRUMPETS: "
Where are the
submarines? I
shouted out. You
promised you'd
drain the swamp
so I'd be able
to see the submarines
that were lying
on the bottom."
Things come together from a distance above, revealing equally how far they are apart. Mark Young's keen eye disturbs predictability. He knows from many angles refutation and commingling. Pachelbel's Canon and mismatched feelings between a man and a woman.
Sheila E. Murphy
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