Day 6: "Thornwork," by Ruth Baumann
I have been trying to conceptualize trauma and survival, and how one finds their path through the briar. The cover, of course, had thorns, hence the word briar--but Baumann's writing is a winding path through men, betrayal, rape, trauma, forms of addictions and pain, comforts--some of these are both balm and betrayer.
Stylistically, the poems are short and play with the "&" and punctuations--lending to a "edginess" or at least a moderate rebellion on the page. The change in punctuation makes poems feel more narrative and prosey while looking more like a form poem. That's winning both ways!
It isn't fair for me to quote, because there is such weaving of narrative. Emotion is raw and pain is left hanging without immediate salvation. I cannot explain it, except to say that it feels so "real" without delving into a creative nonfiction memoir mashup with poetry. There is no hesitation, true feeling of transparency, and beauty to read.