Beauty

Beauty is J.R. Solonche's forty-sixth book of poetry, yet another welcome addition to a remarkable life's work. All of his passions and preoccupations are on full display, singing, dancing, sighing, shouting, joking, laughing, complaining, exulting and lamenting their way across the universe of these pages.

     As ever, there's close observation of the natural world. Here's a wild turkey with feathers of bronze and green "like old metal." Here's a dead opossum, just "another ephemeral landmark" by the side of the road. Here's a woodpecker, "blue-collar worker" who "makes holes for a living." Here are song sparrows, "little brown ideas that haven't quite formed yet." 

So, too, are Solonche's signature wit and humor here in abundance. In "Troy," he gives his wife, no Helen but an avid gardener, a watering can. "No one hides inside it./ No one comes out in the middle of the night/ to burn down the house./ And all I need is a blow-job every so often in return." In "Physical," Solonche's visit to his doctor ends with this exchange: "After all these years, I never know when/ you're joking and when you mean it."/ I grinned. I've been going to Charlie/ for 40 years. He still can't read my mind."

In a departure from earlier collections, for the first time since The Lost Notebook of Zhao Li (Dos Madres 2022), Solonche's persona makes a cameo appearance. Here is the old Chinese poet reflecting on three hawks circling above him: "Three is the perfect/ number for the sky," he says./ "But not for us," say the three/ field mice by the road.

Kirkus Reviews sums up Beauty perfectly: "Solonche's volume of poetry skillfully captures the quotidian and the profound... the stylish yet straightforward tone of the pieces makes difficult subjects feel universal. Solonche's powers of observation and careful shifts between subjects and tones make the collection consistently engrossing... the works' lucidity and humor make for a widely accessible collection."