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Thief in the Interior
"This gorgeous debut is a 'debut' in chronology only. . . . Need is everywhere—in the unforgiving images, in lines so delicate they seem to break apart in the hands, and in the reader who will enter these poems and never want to leave."—Adrian Matejka
Phillip B. Williams investigates the dangers of desire, balancing narratives of addiction, murders, and hate crimes with passionate, uncompromising depth. Formal poems entrenched in urban landscapes crack open dialogues of racism and homophobia rampant in our culture. Multitudinous voices explore one's ability to harm and be harmed, which uniquely juxtaposes the capacity to revel in both experiences.
"Epithalamium":
A kiss. Train ride home from a late dinner,
City Hall and document signing. Wasn't cold
but we cuddled in an empty car, legal.
Last month a couple of guys left a gay bar
and were beaten with poles on the way
to their car. No one called them faggot
so no hate crime's documented. A beat down
is what some pray for, a pulse left to count.
We knew we weren't protected. We knew
our rings were party favors, gold to steal
the shine from. We couldn't protect us,
knew the law wouldn't know how. Still, his
beard across my brow, the burn of his cologne.
When the train stopped, the people came on.
Phillip B. Williams has authored two chapbooks: Bruised Gospels (Arts in Bloom Inc.) and Burn (YesYes Books). A Cave Canem graduate, he received scholarships from Bread Loaf Writers Conference and a Ruth Lilly Fellowship. His work appeared or is forthcoming in Callaloo, Poetry, the Southern Review, West Branch , and others. Phillip received his MFA in Writing as a Chancellor's Graduate Fellow at the Washington University in St. Louis. He is the poetry editor of Vinyl Poetry.
Phillip B. Williams investigates the dangers of desire, balancing narratives of addiction, murders, and hate crimes with passionate, uncompromising depth. Formal poems entrenched in urban landscapes crack open dialogues of racism and homophobia rampant in our culture. Multitudinous voices explore one's ability to harm and be harmed, which uniquely juxtaposes the capacity to revel in both experiences.
"Epithalamium":
A kiss. Train ride home from a late dinner,
City Hall and document signing. Wasn't cold
but we cuddled in an empty car, legal.
Last month a couple of guys left a gay bar
and were beaten with poles on the way
to their car. No one called them faggot
so no hate crime's documented. A beat down
is what some pray for, a pulse left to count.
We knew we weren't protected. We knew
our rings were party favors, gold to steal
the shine from. We couldn't protect us,
knew the law wouldn't know how. Still, his
beard across my brow, the burn of his cologne.
When the train stopped, the people came on.
Phillip B. Williams has authored two chapbooks: Bruised Gospels (Arts in Bloom Inc.) and Burn (YesYes Books). A Cave Canem graduate, he received scholarships from Bread Loaf Writers Conference and a Ruth Lilly Fellowship. His work appeared or is forthcoming in Callaloo, Poetry, the Southern Review, West Branch , and others. Phillip received his MFA in Writing as a Chancellor's Graduate Fellow at the Washington University in St. Louis. He is the poetry editor of Vinyl Poetry.
100 pages, Paperback
First published January 12, 2016
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 40 reviews
February 16, 2022
can i say, holy shit,
January 28, 2016
A harrowing contortion act. On each page Williams explores the many destructions, erasures and obfuscations of black bodies, breaking into whatever form(s) his words demand to tell the story of being a shadow to the world. The book is gorgeously made, and the technical innovations force one to slow down and imbibe the poetry on its own terms. I particularly liked the sly way that many of the poems are linked together or bleed into one another, suggesting cyclical drama and the short-circuited trauma of being an open wound. A startlingly powerful debut.
August 11, 2017
I loved the idea behind the poems, all the politics and queer themes. But the implementation left me cold at times. There were certain sections that seemed to sing, but many just didn't appeal to my tastes. Still a gripping collection though!
January 31, 2017
Powerful and emotionally charged language. I may reread this one at a later date.
May 19, 2021
I'll be checking out what else Williams has written. Some of these poems were extremely moving. Really enjoyed "Do-Rag" and "He Loved Him Madly" and Section II with a series of poems under the title "Witness".
June 29, 2020
The best poetry collection I've read so far in 2020.
December 19, 2016
Williams writes in two modes, one intricate, nearly baroque in syntax and vocabulary, the other direct, not quite vernacular but directly in dialogue with the live of the street and hip hop--he has a special affection for Bone Thugs-N-Harmony. The mix is interesting, but I find myself drawn much more strongly to the more direct work, which often taps into a lyrical depth that reminds me of Ed Pavlic or, to put it in another form, Luther Vandross or Anita Baker. A few sample lines:
"no one can teach how/the rest of us will speak without our mouths"
"Come back. In the fog of my breath/I called his name but heard my own."
"the boy's first word for pain
is the light's
new word for home"
Williams' poetry draws on his experience as a gay black man and the long central sequence, "Witness" focuses on the brutal murder of Rashawn Brazell, so there's a distinctly political tilt to the volume. But the most memorable poems are those where Williams' persona dives deep into the tangle of self and family, all against the backdrop of a Chicago being ravaged by the social dislocations of the 90s and 2000s.
Among the strong poems are "First Words," "Love Story" and "No, Tell Him" (which form a small sequence on loss and grief); "Of Darker Ceremonies," "Apotheosis," and "Elaggua and Eshua Ain't the Same" (though I'm still trying to think through the title).
"no one can teach how/the rest of us will speak without our mouths"
"Come back. In the fog of my breath/I called his name but heard my own."
"the boy's first word for pain
is the light's
new word for home"
Williams' poetry draws on his experience as a gay black man and the long central sequence, "Witness" focuses on the brutal murder of Rashawn Brazell, so there's a distinctly political tilt to the volume. But the most memorable poems are those where Williams' persona dives deep into the tangle of self and family, all against the backdrop of a Chicago being ravaged by the social dislocations of the 90s and 2000s.
Among the strong poems are "First Words," "Love Story" and "No, Tell Him" (which form a small sequence on loss and grief); "Of Darker Ceremonies," "Apotheosis," and "Elaggua and Eshua Ain't the Same" (though I'm still trying to think through the title).
January 26, 2022
Epithalamium
A kiss. Train ride home from a late dinner,
City Hall and document signing. Wasn't cold
but we cuddled in an empty car, legal.
Last month a couple of guys left a gay bar
and were beaten with poles on the way
to their car. No one called them faggot
so no hate crime's documented. A beat down
is what some pray for, a pulse left to count.
We knew we weren't protected. We knew
our rings were party favors, gold to steal
the shine from. We couldn't protect us,
knew the law wouldn't know how. Still, his
beard across my brow, the burn of his cologne.
When the train stopped, the people came on.
A kiss. Train ride home from a late dinner,
City Hall and document signing. Wasn't cold
but we cuddled in an empty car, legal.
Last month a couple of guys left a gay bar
and were beaten with poles on the way
to their car. No one called them faggot
so no hate crime's documented. A beat down
is what some pray for, a pulse left to count.
We knew we weren't protected. We knew
our rings were party favors, gold to steal
the shine from. We couldn't protect us,
knew the law wouldn't know how. Still, his
beard across my brow, the burn of his cologne.
When the train stopped, the people came on.
November 8, 2016
The second section, Witness, is my favorite and, in my opinion, the strongest section of the book. The poem focuses on the search for Rashawn Brazell's killer. Williams allows the items - the two bags that held Brazell's body parts minus the head - to speak. The speaker engages Ms. Brazell. This section also read like a choreopoem. I saw this working as a stage production in my head.
It took me a while to get to this collection, but I'm grateful for the journey.
It took me a while to get to this collection, but I'm grateful for the journey.
December 28, 2018
This book had such a big impact in my life as a poet. Sometimes you read a book that is so honest and unfraid that it gives you permission to write with the same amount of bravery. For me this was one of those books. Phillip B.Williams does not shy away from violence, racism, even murder. He also is willing to experiment with form in a way few poets dare to. A must read.
April 11, 2021
Much like Justin Phillip Reed, Phillip B. Williams writes of the Black body, the Black experience, the tribulations and victimization, and also the homage and life that leads otherwise. Rashawn Brazell is centered in many poems in this volume, which resound in tribute, memory. It is a stark and difficult collection capable of holding itself up in its straightforward realism.
January 18, 2016
wavered between a 3.5 and 4. rounded up for audacity. and because the collection seems to pick up steam as it goes.
August 21, 2020
Wow. The long poems in this collection are both formally innovative and deeply moving. “Witness” attests to the murder and dismemberment of Rashawn Brazell in a way that somehow refrains from making a spectacle of his death and instead evokes deep empathy, particularly for Rashawn’s mother. “He Loved Him Madly,” an elegy for the poet’s father, is stark in its depiction of addiction and wild with loss and longing.
I am still lingering on “Inheritance: Anthem,” which really has to be seen on the page. The outer ring of the poem evolves in each section from an almost abstract blur to words that, when read closely, show the typical Miranda warning.
I am also still sitting with “Do-Rag,” with its eroticism, its threat of violence: “Some men have killed / their lovers because they loved them // so much in secret that the secret kept / coming out: wife gouging her husband / with suspicion, churches sneering // when an usher enters. Never mind that. / The sickle moon turns the sky into / a man’s mouth slapped sideways // to keep him from spilling what no one would / understand: you call me god when it / gets good though I do not exist to you // outside this room. Be yourself or no one else / here. Your do-rag is camouflage-patterned / and stuffed into my mouth.”
I am still lingering on “Inheritance: Anthem,” which really has to be seen on the page. The outer ring of the poem evolves in each section from an almost abstract blur to words that, when read closely, show the typical Miranda warning.
I am also still sitting with “Do-Rag,” with its eroticism, its threat of violence: “Some men have killed / their lovers because they loved them // so much in secret that the secret kept / coming out: wife gouging her husband / with suspicion, churches sneering // when an usher enters. Never mind that. / The sickle moon turns the sky into / a man’s mouth slapped sideways // to keep him from spilling what no one would / understand: you call me god when it / gets good though I do not exist to you // outside this room. Be yourself or no one else / here. Your do-rag is camouflage-patterned / and stuffed into my mouth.”
August 15, 2018
4 1/2. A collection I would like to revisit, as it takes a while to settle into the very unique rhythms of Williams' writing: a firm footing in the early going would likely equate greater resonance in what felt, on this read, felt like a weaker first third.
To preface my thoughts, a completely subjective note on poetry: I tend to gravitate to easy, flowing works that feels effortless in execution. Stylistically, this collection proves diametric to my usual inclinations. Linguistically percussive and syntactically intentional, Thief in the Interior feels almost weaponized. This is forceful, deliberate poetry, feeling as if you can nearly read the process in the poems here, edits and revisions living just below the surface. Williams alternately plays with alliteratives, assonance, and rapid-fire internal rhymes, unleashing a formal onslaught without ever letting his work feel forced. Yeah, this is some good stuff.
To preface my thoughts, a completely subjective note on poetry: I tend to gravitate to easy, flowing works that feels effortless in execution. Stylistically, this collection proves diametric to my usual inclinations. Linguistically percussive and syntactically intentional, Thief in the Interior feels almost weaponized. This is forceful, deliberate poetry, feeling as if you can nearly read the process in the poems here, edits and revisions living just below the surface. Williams alternately plays with alliteratives, assonance, and rapid-fire internal rhymes, unleashing a formal onslaught without ever letting his work feel forced. Yeah, this is some good stuff.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 11, 2020
This book took me longer to read than I expected. Sometimes it was because the poems were complex, but other times I found myself just not relating as much as I would have liked. It happens! But when the poems hit, they hit! The collection is really well put together, and being a fan of sonnets as I am, I really enjoyed how playful Williams is with sonnets. Sometimes they are strict and formal sonnets in the rhyme and lines and meter. Other times, they are busted wide open, they are crowned, they are careless of convention. Also I love the Du Rag poem, it is my favorite in the collection and is definitely relatable as a Black queer person attracted to Black men. I also found myself really appreciating the sounds of the poems, very textured and balanced.
June 2, 2018
I've been calling Thief in the Interior one of my favorite books of the last few years, so I recently gave it a re-read to double-check where I'm at with these poems.... I think this is Williams' first book, but it shows a poet in full command of his toolkit -- gorgeous language, deft syntax, deeply felt. There are some far-out formalist innovations here that stretch the shape and structure of poems in ways I haven't seen before: every one of them is an experiment with purpose, using the innovations to connect reader, feeling, and idea in new ways. Yes, the recent re-read confirms: this is one of my favorite books of the last ten years.
February 8, 2018
Two quotes:
"I was told I could turn my back to them,
the sickle-mouthed angels who rummage
through the church dumpsters looking
for wings or food. One is a friend, febrile
with addiction, drug-rot blackened teeth
freaked into blades from the sheath of his lips.
I was told he would occupy no space
in my memory, that he shouldn't. Snow
falls like a mask in pieces over his face."
- from "Love Story"
"But I believe we are, inside, all blue, you said.
Listen, neither we nor blue make sky.
The earth spins and we, utterly, are spun."
- from "Of Contour, of Cadence"
"I was told I could turn my back to them,
the sickle-mouthed angels who rummage
through the church dumpsters looking
for wings or food. One is a friend, febrile
with addiction, drug-rot blackened teeth
freaked into blades from the sheath of his lips.
I was told he would occupy no space
in my memory, that he shouldn't. Snow
falls like a mask in pieces over his face."
- from "Love Story"
"But I believe we are, inside, all blue, you said.
Listen, neither we nor blue make sky.
The earth spins and we, utterly, are spun."
- from "Of Contour, of Cadence"
December 26, 2022
I was at a reading Phillip B. Williams gave while I was attending USF and I remember loving the rhythm of his poems. I have a predilection for poetry that is heavy on auditory rhythms and sounds. Williams threw these heavy poems at us, the lines rolling up and down hills with each word.
I enjoyed the collection, their form dense and complex, exploring themes of murder and love and secrets and memory. Of racism, hate crimes and loss. All of it reads like a broken collection of one's thoughts, skipping and going back and repeating and sometimes the form changes. A superb collection.
I enjoyed the collection, their form dense and complex, exploring themes of murder and love and secrets and memory. Of racism, hate crimes and loss. All of it reads like a broken collection of one's thoughts, skipping and going back and repeating and sometimes the form changes. A superb collection.
February 20, 2024
The execution of language is just gorgeous! I completed the reading quickly, being mesmerized by the anger so skillfully on display. The disturbing imagery of corpses, as presented in "Black Witch Moth", yield to the last line in which the reader realizes the vicious cycle of brutal murders will never cease: "and the earth not full, the earth not full." It seems, as humans, there is just something in us that will cater to the bases elements--the old Cain and Abel troupe, in which is just is not enough to die from natural causes.
January 20, 2026
All of the poems in this collection have their own merit, have beautiful, unshakeable imagery, but the section about Rashawn Brazell has me in a chokehold. I must’ve read it again and again and the poems invite re-reading, reinterpretation, this reflection and ruminating on Rashawn’s life but also his tragic and horrific death. Wow wow wow
September 7, 2017
My fault for assuming that every poem was going to be as good as "Do-Rag," featured in Poetry magazine, found here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poet...
A few did come close, however:
[Let Me Roll]
[He Loved Him Madly]
Eleggua and Eshu Ain't the Same
Epithalamium
A few did come close, however:
[Let Me Roll]
[He Loved Him Madly]
Eleggua and Eshu Ain't the Same
Epithalamium
July 2, 2018
It's amazing and raw. There's a lot in there. Being gay, being black, being the "different from white society," and it is an amazing read. I didn't read this in one sitting. I couldn't. But I would highly recommend this to everyone who loves poetry.
October 9, 2020
Lots going on here and I can't say I feel I got most of it. The language, lines are enrapturing so I will return.
I feel I write this about half the poetry books I read but that's part of why I read poetry - to stretch myself in all sorts of ways while glorying in language.
I feel I write this about half the poetry books I read but that's part of why I read poetry - to stretch myself in all sorts of ways while glorying in language.
November 26, 2022
As most poetry books, it def requires some outside research but even without it, everything that’s being said resonates heavily. Super wowza heavy. Wish there was more exploration of form like at the beginning
June 20, 2017
This book is incredible!
Williams is such a beautiful writer.
Williams is such a beautiful writer.
July 9, 2017
The author discusses topics of black lives and gay lives amonst his experience of living in Chicago. His word choices made the reading enjoyable.
November 14, 2017
This took me a while to read, but wow, was it worth it. This is dense, gorgeous, difficult poetry. Williams has incredible skill.
October 1, 2018
Beautiful
August 5, 2019
Visceral, guttural, morbid.
August 16, 2020
My only real criticism of this book is I wanted each section to be longer. The final section particularly is incredible.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 40 reviews