| Jeanne E. Clark
heeds Dickinson's advice to tell all the truth and tell it slant.
Rather than settling for the preening gush or anecdotal flatness of
much contemporary poetry, her work travels down roads named Bluelick
and Slabtown to retrieve a rich sense of place and a sinewy American
language. Like the best blues songs, these poems create an oblique
music of leaps and gaps; they let reticence reverberate and sing.
The world of Ohio Blue Tips
is a place of Marlowe beds and Coniber traps, bluegills and yellow
rutabaga, pronating arches and charcoal briquets. It is an interior
furnished with Moo-Cow Creamers, eyelet tableskirts, and Mae West cats.
Clark's implied narratives confront class and aspiration in the unfamed
lives of Joe Silver, a retarded prisoner "whose eyes are the blue tips
of kitchen matches," and Quinn Margaret who is "Backslidden and given
over / To a reprobate mind."
Though the poems
have their own gritty freshness, the sensibility is kin, perhaps, to
that of Robert Creeley, Forrest Gander, Lorine Neidecker, William
Carlos Williams, and C. D. Wright. In this tradition, Jeanne E. Clark
recreates incendiary moments that strike like "wood against wood, Ohio
Blue Tips," and transform us forever. She "hears music, / Which is /
Its own skin."
-Alice Fulton
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