“Today I am medium rare. Don’t touch me.” So begins the first line if the poem Forms of Intercession, the title poem in Jayne Pupek’s book published by Mayapple Press. Throughout the book, Pupek pokes around at medium rare subject matter. It seems there are few things that inhibit her writing which can be both disturbing and refreshing.
Each new page seems to contain a poem that is scarcely able to clutch the edge of its page and as the reader, you find yourself hanging onto each line, each raw emotion in a desperate attempt to intercede and keep it from falling into the darkness of nowhere. I had to check my own hands for blood stains when finished.
For all the dispare, Forms of Intercession isn’t all that fatalistic. No it touches a core reality of life… that it is “full of broken combs and blisters. Still we go on, / because it is in us, the need for continuance, / that sliver of persistence inside every cell.” I found it a very artistically mature and straightforward read.
Each new page seems to contain a poem that is scarcely able to clutch the edge of its page and as the reader, you find yourself hanging onto each line, each raw emotion in a desperate attempt to intercede and keep it from falling into the darkness of nowhere. I had to check my own hands for blood stains when finished.
For all the dispare, Forms of Intercession isn’t all that fatalistic. No it touches a core reality of life… that it is “full of broken combs and blisters. Still we go on, / because it is in us, the need for continuance, / that sliver of persistence inside every cell.” I found it a very artistically mature and straightforward read.
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