As the anagram of its title suggests, the poems, prose, lyrics, and memoir in John Yau’s new collection focus on an inescapable duality. It is the duality of living in both painted gardens and in the shadows of historic events that sweep one along. Yau explores the language of telling, of biography, auto and otherwise, of landscapes that are simultaneously imaginary and real, of ways to enter and leave “the kingdom of poetry.” This is a book of displacements and unpredictable associations, of “last confessions” and “coming attractions,” at once haunted and haunting.
John Yau is an American poet and critic who lives in New York City. He received his B.A. from Bard College in 1972 and his M.F.A. from Brooklyn College in 1978. He has published over 50 books of poetry, artists' books, fiction, and art criticism.
These poems are more sophisticated than the ones in his 1979 collection, "Sometimes." His prose poems I found to be prosaic, political, and of the left brain. Some humous poems The first few sections are dead-on, just stellar.
Maybe the meaning has passed me by....the staccato of these allegoric images mean that deeply meaningful phrases ride up against utter nonsense, as if I stumbled into a conversation constructed of inside jokes between two other individuals.
Couldn't get into most of the poems in this collection—to me, they largely read like surrealist Mad Libs—but the poems I really liked ("Sotto Voce," "In The Kingdom Of Poetry") stood out.