(no subject)
But the sun, and the ships, and the fish, and the waves. by Conyer Clayton
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
A powerful, personal collection of prose poems that find the poet wrestling with assault, bodily autonomy, fear, loss, and trauma through surreal dreams and rich images, many of water (hence, the title), many of distorted, fractured memories. A strong follow-up to her earlier collection We Shed Our Skin Like Dynamite. Highly recommended.
View all my reviews