It remains ridiculously important to discuss things like sexual violence in the world at large, but, specifically, in the poetry world, and in her poetry collection, “Evergreen,” poet Sarah Frances Moran brings the issue to light in a way that is unimaginably beautiful, thoughtful, and vulnerable.
Embedded deeply in the natural, this is a story of survival. Of trees and women who refuse to turn to ash. It’s kinship with animals instead of people. It’s trusting animals, trees, bark, instead of people.
“My doubt rests somewhere deep
between my ribcage.
It pulses, growing”'My doubt rests somewhere deep between my ribcage.'Click To Tweet
It’s one of those books that is so so hard to not describe as important. Because, like an article or essay or speech on the role of sexual violence in our society, this is an important book of poetry. It directly challenges patriarchy, and rape culture, and entitlement. It isn’t soft about it.
“I know and have always known my body was mine.
He didn’t
and that’s the difference.”
At times, the language seems to trip over itself, the form morphing from quick lines to length sentences that don’t break. The content itself is stunning, but sometimes the language isn’t as tight as I wish it was. Where the images are gripping, the sound isn’t necessarily as strong. It feels, sometimes, unbalanced.
When it is successful, though, the diction is beyond locked in and the sound resonates. It’s hard to forget images that seem to contradict, that seem impossible to visualize, but that are in fact, somehow, carved into your reality by clear poetic talent.
“Did you know
inside the silence
the booms are found?”“Did you know inside the silence the booms are found?”Click To Tweet
Overall, “Evergreen” is definitely worth supporting, and I’ll continue to pay attention to the work of its author.
“There’s something beautiful about broken
until broken falls apart all over your life.”
You can buy a copy of “Evergreen” from Weasel Press here.