WEE reviews May 26, 2006

5 by 7 by Max Winter

Julie: Well gosh, I'm behind. I could say that I'll be sure to catch up, to review the poems I skipped. But I'd be lying, or at least promising something I'm not likely to deliver. The word "slacker" is tattooed across the bridge of my nose. It's occasionally hidden by my very prim glasses. Winter's poem interested me, but didn't delight. I really wanted something with more wonder to it, though the description of the man is filled with nice touches. It made me picture Terry-Thomas, though, which is unfortunate but entirely my fault.

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III. Handkerchiefs on the Lawn, from From A Burbank Catalogue by David Barber

Julie: The picture this poem paints is an appealing one, but the language so often slips into such tired diction that I just can't enjoy it. "Wildest intentions" is the big offender. I don't spend my days shouting "Cliche!" at every passing poem, but some really do need to embrace fresher language.

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Let This World Endure by Yves Bonnefoy, trans. Hoyt Rogers

Julie: I don't read French, so I can't pin the biggest flaw of this poem on the author or the translator. I do notice that translated poems seem to suffer from vagueness, abstraction, limpness, languor more than English language poems. This poem doesn't have much in the way of vibrance, motion, or energy. I was just at a distance, watching a not-terribly-interesting play unfold.