Geraldine Connolly
Open this book at random and find a trove of thrilling images and unexpected metaphors: tiny bells jingling like sins, “a cool lake of indifference,” “an impossible wheel of hunger.” Read this book beginning to end and discover a dark trajectory, the work required to integrate one’s family of origin with a wider consciousness and responsibility. As have those in Geraldine Connolly’s previous books, these poems fly. But equipped with the acute sensitivity of an aileron, they fly higher and more daringly—exposing for us our own “beating heart, its thump and clamor.” This is the work of a gifted poet at the height of her powers. —Natasha Sajé
