These are poems that manage to be both solid and looping, both graceful and packed with lyrical intent; there’s magic in them. Richard Meier‘s first book, Terrain Vague, was published by Verse Press , which became Wave Books, anything from either one is some of my favorite poetry being published today.
Consider how much story and music is packed in this:
The water green with orange fire as a box
of turquoise from the mine
cut us into patches for a quilt
we made to lie down in as a part. Alone
solitary were three words that came to mind
with people otherwise called
learning to swim, binding the water to our limbs
until they overflowed with flowing grains and fell
to my brother, and my sister to me.
Reek and commencement strayed from the surface,
something due to the past to return we borrowed:
despite these words, I too am a person.
Sharp, oddly disjointed poems. Grade: B+