Final words …

… James Tate’s Last, Last Poems. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

 Someone new to his work, or unaccustomed to reading poetry, might find themselves pleasantly surprised by the absence of all the usual things we expect, and perhaps dread, about contemporary American poetry. These poems are completely clear, comically matter-of-fact, and incredibly easy to read, while also rewarding to reread. Some of the poems end with a real chortle. On closer reading, the charm of the poems doesn’t fade, but a subtle sense of dread, a disintegration of the usual conventions of human behavior and relations, begins to disturb.