You as Poetry by Rose Hunter
“The caveat is — I don’t read much poetry these days, although when younger I read poetry avidly. I bought this new collection of Rose Hunter poems because I had read two of her earlier collections, and liked them very much; ironically, I first discovered Rose’s work in prose, a small work she published some years ago called, ‘Another Night at the Circus.’ After that, I began looking for anything else she had written.
“You As Poetry does not disappoint, although she has much to live up to based on her previous work. Besides Rose’s evident poetic style, which happens to be one I find both accessible and stunningly powerful, I especially liked the “thread” running through these poems, the reading of which will be enhanced by starting at the beginning and reading through to the end, avoiding the urge to skip around from one interesting title to another. That thread is ‘you.’ (It would certainly be interesting to know if there is a real you and who that you is.)
“There is a strong flavor of Mexico running throughout these poems, much of it about Puerto Vallarta.
“This book gets my strongest recommendation..”
—Donigan Merritt, author of The Common Bond.
“Rose Hunter creates energizing convergences of form and language and then she pulls them apart again…changing directions, perception, and hearts.” – Susan Smith Nash, author of The Adventures of Tinguely Querer.
“The uncountable layers of our 21st-century identity – in You As Poetry, Rose Hunter makes them visible in a provoking and compassionate collage of the human condition.” – Dorothee Lang, author of Worlds Apart (Folded Word Press)
You As Poetry
by Rose Hunter
2013, 82 pages, 5 x 8
Cover by Arlene Ang
You As Francis Bacon, Figure With Meat
Because you are grey? Because you are blue?
Because you have one eye? Or
because you are your face, screaming
in front of carcasses like slippers
to go with your mad pope robe
or elephant ears to match your rage
in this, your echo chamber, Xanadu
or a cardboard box; the idea of light beyond
but you can’t see that and I can’t
know that, and there is nothing either of us
can do with a white arrow on the floor.
Mouth like a strangling and I do not know
if you are alive or dead and still ranting
one hand grasping your cane.
You As Canyon
Along the river that drop with no railing
and think how there are so many of them
balconies without bannisters
and footpaths along precipices
and holes in the street; from that point of view
not a safe place to be drunk
which is why we all are
on cobblestones and steps with crumbling
tongues: remember: your fear
of such things made me fearless
because I wanted to show you the world
is not as frightening as you think
I wanted to demonstrate
not the precipice, but the gorge
which means: we do not stumble
but plunge fully into
what is right there, muted; the bear park
(I saw its lights) and knew it was you
because I needed to know it wasn’t
that other guy (the one with your shirt)
you have many fake twins:
the pizza delivery, tequila
salesman canopy tour, guy?
Best walk on the road; the gravel
from passing trucks is real as shard
sparking over the edge
disappearing into you.
Rose Hunter is the author of (the poetry books) You As Poetry (Texture Press), [four paths] (Texture Press), and to the river (Artistically Declined Press). She has appeared in journals such as The Barcelona Review, Geist, New World Writing, Cordite, Juked, DIAGRAM, The Nervous Breakdown, > kill author, Bluestem, PANK, and The Doctor T.J Eckleburg Review. She is from Australia originally and now lives in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. She tweets, @roseh400.