J.R. Carpenter, Measures of Weather
the coast establishes a sortof islet
within common humanrelation
the months leave theirnotches on me
the island has no need ofme
you want something tohappen
and nothing does
what happens to the coast
does not happen to thediscourse
like a cork on the waves
I remain motionless
boredom is not far frombliss:
it is bliss seen from theshores of pleasure (“Of Coast”)
United Kingdom-based Canadian poet J.R. Carpenter’s latest is
Measures of Weather
(Swindon UK: Shearsman Books, 2025), a book that self-describes as a collection“about more than just weather. What isn’t weather? Weather here is a stand-in,for the elemental, the transitional, the ungovernable. And what does it mean tomeasure?” The collection offers a suite of sharp lyrics, each holding titlesthat echo off each other: “Of Fire,” “Of the Moon,” “Of Time,” “Of Witches,” “OfDew,” “Of Nothing.” There is something of the title-thread reminiscent of what California poet Elizabeth Robinson has been working on for a while now, such as in her
Excursive
(New York NY: Roof Books, 2023) [see my review of such here] and
On Ghosts
(Solid Objects, 2013) [see my review of such here], to Anne Carson’s infamouscollection Short Talks (London ON: Brick Books, 1992), with each Carsonprose poem in the collection titled “Short talk on _____.” The title-structureallows for a kind of ongoingness, an umbrella under which anything might happenor occur, including threads that might relate to the specifics of each title.For Carpenter, she offers a measurement beyond immediate measurement, composinga sequence of lyric meditations on physical, intellectual and even outer spaceand celestial bodies. “2 August 1786 // I want to trouble you / in absence,”the sequence “Of a New Comet” begins, “with the following / imperfect account[.]”Whatis it about the weather? Lisa Robertson composed The Weather (VancouverBC: New Star Books, 2001) while living in England, another Canadian poet in theUK writing her own book-length lyric examination (a book Carpenter quotes atthe opening of this collection, also). “of magnifying and multiplying glasses,”Carpenter writes, to open the sequence “Of Glass,” “I have neither studied /norpracticed [.]” There is almost a way through which Carpenter utilizes Robertson’sThe Weather as a jumping-off point, providing a work that responds, inpart, to that classic title, but stretching that measure much further. Referencingtime, weather and space, this collection is a measure of measurement itself,seeing how expansive one can explore through the smallest examination, thesmallest measure. “what is the real temperature / of bodies of a differentnature / in similar circumstances,” she writes, as part of the extended “OfDew,” “of bodies a little elevated / and similar bodies / lying on the ground// sometimes bodies / having smooth surfaces / become colder in air [.]” In pinpointlyric, Carpenter offers a remarkable scaffolding that displays the whole shape,showcasing the ease in which she can articulate her finely-tuned lines, a movementof moments across conceptual space, time and motion. Or, as the sequence “OfTime” begins:
One hand holds the exhaustion.
Working. Away. In asuburb of Rome.
Between two televisions,blaring.
Three languages. Four deadlines.
A long waiting. No trains.
Will this flight cancel?
Feathers ruffle.
The arm aches to wing.
