Deep City Megan Kaminski continues her role as cartographer of desire,
of longings both “feudal,” futile, and refined. Her delicate poems
loiter at the intersection of bodies and letters (both alphabetic and
epistolary), where objects and imagination collude. Kaminski’s poems
beautifully illustrate how our sense perceptions insistently puncture
through even the most rational arrangement. Deep City—not so much a
place as a literary pleasure.
She writes, “what if I split it open / melon ripe and red / let them
all out” but there is no “what if” about it as these beautiful poems
dispatch us around the world where everyone awaits. The vivid
reimagined anatomy of the page in Megan Kaminski’s brilliant Deep City
is host to the unexpected “slide from languid to louche” listening with
our enthusiastic ears. You will be wild about this book with me!
These poems pace among fresh flowers in the daytime, and set out on
strange errands in the night. Between buildings, down alleys, through
shadows and leaf litter and under the jewels of city lights, comes a
voice of obsessive listmaking, that names and repeats and mutters under
the breath, that says: do not forget this, do not forget that, do not
forget any of it.