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Ever notice how rare it is these dark days to come upon a book of really happy poems? I get a sense from Night Scenes that Lisa Jarnot is at a really good place in her life, & the poems that have resulted – some of them rhymed, some sonnets, a few oulipian procedural things, an "imitation" or two – make me really happy, make me smile. Her afterword – nodding to three of the best of her contemporaries, Elizabeth Willis, Lee Ann Brown, & Jennifer Moxley – makes it clear that Night Scenes is out to recapture some of that early joy & excitement in poetry that I for one sometimes feel I've lost. And it's a success.
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Possibly related moments of recent poetic delight: P. (aet. 6), at J.'s instigation, reciting snatches of Stein's The World Is Round; Peter O'Leary reading – with relish – Ginsberg's autumnal ode to his sphincter.
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