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Small Murders These poems
restore the sense of tension to the present tense, as their speakers contemplate
unsettling hallucinatory events and impressions. Beneath this restless,
disoriented, terrifyingly calm voice you can detect a muted
hysteria clenching and muttering like Edgar Allan Poe on Zoloft at 4 A.M
Something not quite usual is pulsing away here, curled up in the glovebox,
the closet, the chest of drawers, and it has something personal and pointed
to say. Meet Carrie McGaths spooky entourage of mannequins, dolls,
libidinous objects, figures and effigies that alternately interrogate
and judge, constantly threatening to leave, and threatening never to leave.
Then tryyou can always tryto forget them. You Are
a Rifle in My Closet is a strangely strong poem that develops its
haunting metaphor to lament and protest an endlessly deferred possibility
of fulfillment. In Two Men in Sepia Came to Me, another outstanding
poem, the speaker has responded to such frustration by sinking into an
inner world of phantasmagorical passion. McGath taps into deep metaphoric
veins in these poems. "Juxtaposing
imagery of fractured delicacy, birds' wings, eggshells and doll's heads,
with uncompromising hardness of gun barrels and wooden chests, she captures
an uncanny world where a semblance of normality veils overripe fantasies
and violence." |
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New
Issues Poetry & Prose, Western Michigan University, Dept. of English, |
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