Stacey Waite's book of poems, Butch Geography, is good. Really good. I pulled it out of the stack of books I brought home from Boston. Made some coffee, and started to read.
It was so good I forgot to drink my coffee. Engrossing, yes, but it's also tough on the heart. I actually had to put it down about half-way through. Only my cold coffee made me realize how long I had spent reading and re-reading these poems about gender, growing up--and not, fitting in--and not, and being tough--and not. Waite makes these poems look easy--I felt like she could be telling me these poems over a beer--but there's a complexity that kept bringing me back--will bring me back later this week to finish it. As I said, it's good.
I'll post another update when I finish it. Here's the link: Butch Geography by Stacey Waite.
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