3/5 stars
What's it about? torrin a. greathouse writes the violence and beauty of the queer, trans, disabled, and chronically ill experience. A book of reckoning and blooming.
How’d I find it? I discovered greathouse’s work in an issue of Poetry and have so been looking forward to reading her debut collection. This copy came from Multnomah County Library.
Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Danez Smith and Cameron Awkward-Rich should appreciate, and I think this would also appeal to young adult readers ready to take on darker and more intimate discussions of self-discovery.
What stood out? I wanted this book to pass my “wound” test, especially since the word appears twice in the title. Of course it didn’t. Wound from the Mouth of a Wound is not to blame. The book succeeds at its own objectives, and greathouse’s ear for language and creativity in form attest to an outstanding talent. Take my favorite poems of the collection, “They Leave Nothing for the Morning” and “On Using the Wo│men’s Bathroom.” Bangers. But was the general dictionary of words as expected (teeth and throat and tongue and stars and blood)? Yes. And am I at a stage in my readership in which I prefer books that transcend the experience of the self and its history? Also yes.
Which line made me feel something? Recognizing that excerpting will butcher the poem’s careful line breaks, here’s a snippet from “Abecedarian Requiring Further Examination Before a Diagnosis Can Be Determined:” “Still, inside my body— / kingdom with poisoned wells. I want anything but an elegy / lining my bones. I just want to be a question this body can answer.”