Stephen Collis’s A History of the Theories of Rain: small review

The latest publication from Stephen Collis, A History of the Theories of Rain, continues the poet’s commitment to a climate poetics capable of global and personal simultaneously. “each mouth a poem / we did not taste / shouting venom at the state / of the world” the poet writes mid-way through the volume (27). When Collis isn’t following a stream-of-consciousness mode that captures the distinct raw energy of observation, he’s rigidly and powerfully constructing form-intensive

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Sudden, a poem

The sparks that come off the welding wand. It’s a blade, no, it’s a unnamed device in this spire of memory. Memorial. Conscripts dotting a geography of hallways and nightmares. Around each blowing curtain in the breeze, and I remember when the water wasn’t bruised and green. Binaural affectation. The Greeks had it correctly transcendental. Tracers of pings, the audibly bluish kind. Blowfish of splinters of sound, and I am unable to escape playgrounds of

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Winter Treatment, a poem

Merged from Dirty Winter and Treatment. Part One I’m driving through rose-tinted mountains, a range flipped on the head, arranged their ruffles in blue painted lead, like silkscreen waves, like oceanic current, like temporal parallax, like sweet simmering paralysis, crucified stately, narcissist martyr, pressure cooker, liminal lands took her, they all dodge the bullet I’m coming home, a long blow through the tow’s line, 405 keeping bright, maniacal alive, arresting the guffaw ahh, lickety split

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Treatment, a poem

With Amiri Baraka and Auscultation Coming home, a long blow through the tow’s line, 405 keeping bright, maniacal alive, lit up that magneto cape, what a slight shape, arresting the guffa a, lickety split and we’re back to the raw merging West a bit, to the central pit of awe, above the inch, along the rim, found the itch, strum the ridge, flick of the gas guzzle tongue punk, it’s getting grim, light’s satin saturated and

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Dirty Winter, a poem

With Auscultation Dirty winter driving through rose-tinted mountains, flipped on head, the ruffles of the blue, silkscreen waves, oceanic current, temporal parallax paralysis, their mobbed in Ottawa, they’re mobbed on the Black Sea, crucified, stately, martyr, pressure cooker, liminal lands, Lithuania, dodge the bullet, retreat to Poland, trance today, gone tomorrow, the slow burn, glow in the dark warfare, Chernobyl bullet holes, I’m swaying, swaying, heat, monger along the deep lagoon, Blue too soon, thrown

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