Go figure

Armantrout, winner of the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize, observes the world through a lens that zooms in, magnifies, critiques, and describes with precision and pragmatism. The collection's opening piece establishes that "There's no way to explain / how faultlessly I want to write / about how pointless all this is." But in spare, lyric lines, Armantrout does attempt to explain this by way of insights readers might formulate on their own, were they not distracted or disquieted ("Brands are what / gods used to be-- // categories / with outsized personalities"). The poems are also concerned with how language and meaning are made and how that subsequently affects one's experience of the world. The perspective of each poem is not always defined, but each speaks with a poignancy that feels relevant and relatable. Whether it is the likes and shares of social media, the next generation of AI, or the observant naming of beautiful objects, Armantrout's latest poems are timely and timeless. "How many false things / have I realized // each one a small / joy."

In her precise latest, Armantrout (Finalists) addresses the limits of language during a precarious historical moment. This theme is captured decisively in the opening poem, "Here I Go": "There's no way to explain/ how faultlessly I want to write/ about how pointless all this is// ...like this ongoing attempt/ to catalog the world/ by latching each thing/ to the last/ memory it calls up.// Nothing recalls/ the new cat-6 haboob." Armantrout loses none of her usual playfulness as she insistently probes for meaning in a time of catastrophe. Short, focused poems address topics ranging from the connection between beauty and significance to the sickening regularity of mass shootings in America. Other subjects are more innocuous, with often humorous imagery: a cauliflower head is "made of/ little noggins," while a palm frond "shimmies/ like a tambourine." In "Flame," Armantrout slyly communicates that there is, in fact, no end to language, even as the apocalypse seems nigh: "In the midst of the evident collapse,/ I'm bored. What is there left/ to say, I say." Armantrout's love of language and the joy she brings to shaping it make this a welcome balm for uncertain times. (Aug.)