Now We're Getting Somewhere: Poems

I could see Buddha inviting Kim Addonizio to be a keynote speaker,and read some of her poems from this book, for some special'after hours' stuff.I had never heard of Kim until a few days ago, and I have been connectedto the highest levels of the publishing world -- and poetry for some30 years now. But I am a rather reclusive old cowboy and rarely, rarelyread any work by others, but to try and then move some of own waresmore along.Think we got a real, real poet here with all the wild and vital trimmings.Though have only read 3 of her poems so far; and that might be it fora while. Ya got to savor where you can.Nevertheless: bet Kim and Charles Bukowski could have coaxed the mooninto bed with them for some crazy to the max sweet nights, and thenmaybe sprinkled love & star juice all over the world. And helped us tobecome saner munchkins.Daniel LadinskyInternational bestselling Penguin Random House Author

Tantalizing, vivid, gloomy, relentless—she’s no lie. Magic—worth it.

Loved it. Beautifully written and somehow harrowing and hilarious, unflinching and redemptive. All in her irresistible voice. Genuine and wanton and wise. Felt like a new level of mastery from a poet who has long been a favorite of mine and one of America's best.

Witty, dark, funny and compelling poetry by master poet, Kim Addonizio

Bracing, amazing, wry-laugh-inducing collection from my favorite contemporary poet Kim addonizio. Worth keeping at your side over the course of the week to consume a few samples from time to time so you don't gobble it up all at once. A key line: “Writing it is like firing a nail gun into the center of a vanity mirror or slowly shaking a souvenir snow-globe of asbestos & shame to quiet an imaginary baby.”Bawdy, skewering, given to drink, addonizio presents brilliant images (imaginary baby!) in an atmosphere that feels like a bar kept open after closing: honest, regretful, maudlin, hopeful, and wondering whether it’s possible to get one more.Here’s a favorite:TO THE WOMAN CRYING UNCONTROLLABLY IN THE NEXT STALLIf you ever woke in your dress at 4 a.m. everclosed your legs to someone you loved openedthem for someone you didn’t moved againsta pillow in the dark stood miserably on a beachseaweed clinging to your ankles paidgood money for a bad haircut backed awayfrom a mirror that wanted to kill you bledinto the back seat for lack of a tamponif you swam across a river under rain sangusing a dildo for a microphone stayed upto watch the moon eat the sun entireripped out the stitches in your heartbecause why not if you think nothing &no one can / listen I love you joy is coming

Addonizio is a master of standard poetic tricks (metaphor, variations meter). But she also strategically laces her "witty, unhinged verses" with sly, ironic humor, some confrontational raunchiness, and even parodies of academic writing programs ("An eruption of coherence in the post-modern seminar"). For a evocative setting she invokes not just light but Umbrian light, which is not just shining but "smearing itself." The phrase "something died in your eyes" would be modestly effective on its own, but she gavages it in by adding "I can smell it."Her special genius at constructing poems lies in precipitously spanning the mundane and the profound in a couple verses, leaping from the immediate to the historical. Other poets invoke past creative eras; Addonizio tries to merge with them.Sometimes she is effective offering a poem that is direct and concise, such as showing the struggle of wild feelings inside a veneer of civilization in Wolf Song, or the effects of a romantic breakup on narcissistic self-regard in Ghosted and Ex.Not every metaphor hits its mark; comparing a lover's eyes to parrots can be engaging (especially when contrasted with the eyes of Wall Street traders later)—but what do canned lima beans have to do with depression? Perhaps great poems undermine the reader's assumption, but in this book snarky side commentary intrudes even into a poem about death.She subverts the nature imagery that poets have loved so much since the Romantic era, making elements of nature into foreboding portents of disaster. I hope Addonizio doesn't live in the world she made for herself in this book. At least I don't believe she felt all the "uncomfortable feelings" in her archive.The first section has a lot of social and political commentary, but most of the book might be considered to fall into the category of confessional poetry (in fact, that's the title of one section), where Addonizio therapeutically processes romantic relationships gone wrong. To me, she seemed to be overplaying the theme of unrequited love a bit, but it worked for Petrarch, so what the hell.

I was not a fan at first. This is the first Addonizio collection I've read, and I had a hard time getting into it. It seemed to swing between irony/cynicism (great!) and melodrama (ugh!). I noticed, too, that uncommon words were sometimes overused (caul, anyone?). Nevertheless, as I continued to read, I found myself admiring the poet: she mashes incredibly different images and words together, which is hard to do in practice. You've also gotta feel sorry for the narrator; she's going through a rough time. There are some great lines ("a third margarita waterfalling through my liver"), and "Little Old Ladies" is my favorite poem in the collection ("Young professionals lining us up on city view balconies to be shoved off"). Overall, I'm glad I read it, but I'll probably enjoy her other collections more.