Poetry. Poems of daily diligence, attenuated to the rhythms of rural life, meet with poems of Buddhist inspired meditations on how these rhythms fit into larger life patterns in Maj Ragain's latest collection, A HUNGRY GHOST SURRENDERS HIS TACKLEBOX. In his hands poetry becomes that dirt road winding back home, corn tassel, fencerows, the last light fading in the top branches of a century oak, bridging solitude and community, a way to offer one's longings to the world. "Pay the bill for the water/ in which you boil the rice. The rice sustains the body./ The water—from A HUNGRY GHOST SURRENDERS HIS TACKLEBOX.
I love Maj's poetry. So honest and brave and filled with reminders about the treasure life is, yet without ever making one feel bludgeoned with moral lessons. A rare and wonderful talent.
I've read Fresh Oil Loose Gravel and I'm hoping this one will turn out as well. There's something plain and eloquent about Ragain's poetry all at the same time...