September 6, 2024 / barton smock
words toward Emilie Menzel’s ‘The Girl Who Became A Rabbit’ (Hub City Press 2024)
The Girl Who Became A Rabbit
Emilie Menzel
Hub City Press 2024
Emilie Menzel’s divinely obsessed The Girl Who Became A Rabbit is a salve of exile, an exodus of fixation, and a delayed devouring. It is never one thing longer than two things allow. It dances with staying, moves history, feels steeped in anew. It has a language for language, and what comes next has to come next. Whether giving otherness a beinghood, or taking bait to its secret unhooking, the verse has a mean proximity to distance that presses the neck for a pulse then wraps the wrist in a melancholy of modification and merge. The book itself is a sincerity machine where form forgives shape but doesn’t die on a shadow. Where body cares for body at the prayer of its reckless idea. No reading, here, is lost. Not in a writing this hungrily unharmed. Not in a poetics so chimerically alone.
~
reflection by Barton Smock
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