by Frances Richard
paper, 87 pages, $14.95
Frances Richard's poems know how to end. It's hard to trust a poet who doesn't get 'there' or know she has. Frances is keenly aware that that is the job. In short, we're managing death. Her path intrigues me too: layered, brainy, wise-guy. She is definitely a poet to watch she is writing between schools, even in spite of them...She courts the sexy anonymous. She writes quietly and fiercely with the unpleasant force of nature yowling behind her
back. These are elegant and sculpted poems that manage to scare me. Where is she now?
I am transported by Frances Richard's poems, their permanent liquidity, their 'breathing surface.' Throughout the cycle that makes up the book, a narrative trace of a mother's suicide weaves the watery texture of experience. These stunning poems show us that in the face of loss, it is things that breathe. Fragments of memory move through the details of objects to haunt language. Then the haunting is our carriage, taking us beyond narrative even as it shatters. See Through is an exquisite achievement.