The word “brain” appears twenty-six times in Erin Robinsong’s new collection, Wet Dream (this is not counting the word “mind” and other possible synonyms). The “brain sun,” the “wet electric brain” is a “[l]eakage of brains,” “[d]eep into [the speaker’s] brains.”
My brain floating in juice it produces
Itself
I jiggle a little in the juices it produces to move in
Pleasurabilities
Wet Dream
Erin Robinsong
Brick Books
$22.95
paper
126pp
9781771315876
[…] Water is the transportation
System of all thought. Between us, through us, through
Space and time.
This thematization of liquid entanglement and intelligence is reflected stylistically, with long run-on sentences that often blend any methodical separation of subject and object. Take the following lines, for example:
Again, alchemically wed
To the light eating
Oxygen out, CO2 drinking
Ones making shade
Out of heat, green of fire, peaches
Of shit, speech out of wind,
Peonies of dog
This pileup of language groans with affect. Who is doing, and to whom actions are being done, dissolve as the in-between space of touch, seepage, and integration sustain the vibratory vibrancy of these poems. This book is more than the Wet Dream of its title, however. Yes, there is an erotic surge that moistens and interconnects the world as an ecosystem of poetry, but this collection never fades into reverie. It is as real as “[t]he wet mind of reality” in its articulation of the climate crisis and its consequences, in its incisive formulation of care towards the environment and the self, and in its coherence as a published project. Robinsong spreads “wet intelligence” like musk over every image, statement, and experience that she shares, sensuously, fervently present in the now of poetry.mRb
0 Comments