University of Iowa Press, 2015 Paper: 978-1-60938-389-3 | eISBN: 978-1-60938-390-9 Library of Congress Classification PS3613.C37A6 2015 Dewey Decimal Classification 811.6
ABOUT THIS BOOK | AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY | REVIEWS | TOC | REQUEST ACCESSIBLE FILE
ABOUT THIS BOOK
“I guess an iceflow came through / to take the road,” writes Aaron McCollough in Rank, a richly strange sequence of poems in which forces of nature, mind, spirit, and language partake of each other in vibrant and shifting ways. “I can only guess that would / destroy these remains slowly,” McCollough continues. Indeed, Rank seeks to recover sources of imaginative meaning from the unsettled remnants of lyric tradition, seeking out possibilities for belief and sustenance in the echoes of lapsed poetic speech and song.
In language that is dense, allusive, by turns trancelike and mordantly funny, McCollough descends into the ranks of disintegrating organic life and finds elemental processes of regeneration underway, “ivy suckers climbing / the knock kneed craning bridge / to that bright food.” This is work that emerges in the aftermath of declining systems of hierarchy and order, a site marked by the overlapping of occult practices and postmodern physics, tense meditation, and economic anonymity. McCollough gives rise to a voice that is as much vegetative as human, as deeply embedded in the loam of cultural memory as it is new, original, and lavishly daring.
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
Aaron McCollough is the author of Underlight, No Grave Can Hold My Body Down, Little Ease, Double Venus, and Welkin. He works as the editorial director for the University of Michigan Press and is also the copublisher of SplitLevel Texts. McCollough lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
REVIEWS
“Rank has dark fumes, but it’s rich as loam, with a propulsive power inside: the thorny terror that ends in a scarlet flower. McCollough’s tight verses crackle and chime—sonically rich and lexically wild—their syllables so deeply cast you can almost hear other syllables in them, worlds within worlds. Bones clacking and muscles moaning, their physicality makes meaning audible, and the pain becomes prayerful, ‘a rendition of, at least, eternity.’”—Aaron Shurin
“McCollough’s poems in Rank, as in most of his collections, come from the inner part of himself that is a cosmic being. He tunes into the cosmos and receives it, which is what being alive is: ‘I could kill for the songs, I could.’ Poetry comes from this ongoing inner state of being, between listening to the cosmos and responding to it. McCollough’s vision of eternity and our verdant patch of it is at once practical and mysterious. At some point while reading these poems, you’ll think of listening to the song ‘Nothing but Flowers’ by the Talking Heads. Strumming a guitar makes a flower bloom. The corporeal world is rank, grows over, around, above, inside, and without us. Let the universe in and change you.”—Arda Collins
TABLE OF CONTENTS
...
I CAN embrace life
...
I GUESS an iceflow came through
THE NAKED bones, especially the head,
SEIZED THERE where the thesis is
CAN'T FEEL the sun
I LOOK into the black bird’s black planet
WAKING ESCAPES from a hole somewhere;
NOT FLAWS. Signatures.
IN THIS many analogued book of animals
NOT UNDONE by length—declining
SLOW HERE, take a seat here.
SLICE OF fruit and cigarette slice of
STAYING IN a little cabin in the city.
ROSE DROOPED, ambulated the neighborhood
FROM THE counting house, dread
WALNUT SKULL of some brutal fairy
THE SUN really brings out the rot
IS SPRING penetrating,
RANK THISTLE gone to soft seed
...
SOMETIMES IN the kingdom of God
...
MEETING THE welling stream
Acknowledgments
REQUEST ACCESSIBLE FILE
If you are a student who cannot use this book in printed form, BiblioVault may be able to supply you
with an electronic file for alternative access.
Please have the accessibility coordinator at your school fill out this form.
University of Iowa Press, 2015 Paper: 978-1-60938-389-3 eISBN: 978-1-60938-390-9
“I guess an iceflow came through / to take the road,” writes Aaron McCollough in Rank, a richly strange sequence of poems in which forces of nature, mind, spirit, and language partake of each other in vibrant and shifting ways. “I can only guess that would / destroy these remains slowly,” McCollough continues. Indeed, Rank seeks to recover sources of imaginative meaning from the unsettled remnants of lyric tradition, seeking out possibilities for belief and sustenance in the echoes of lapsed poetic speech and song.
In language that is dense, allusive, by turns trancelike and mordantly funny, McCollough descends into the ranks of disintegrating organic life and finds elemental processes of regeneration underway, “ivy suckers climbing / the knock kneed craning bridge / to that bright food.” This is work that emerges in the aftermath of declining systems of hierarchy and order, a site marked by the overlapping of occult practices and postmodern physics, tense meditation, and economic anonymity. McCollough gives rise to a voice that is as much vegetative as human, as deeply embedded in the loam of cultural memory as it is new, original, and lavishly daring.
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
Aaron McCollough is the author of Underlight, No Grave Can Hold My Body Down, Little Ease, Double Venus, and Welkin. He works as the editorial director for the University of Michigan Press and is also the copublisher of SplitLevel Texts. McCollough lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan.
REVIEWS
“Rank has dark fumes, but it’s rich as loam, with a propulsive power inside: the thorny terror that ends in a scarlet flower. McCollough’s tight verses crackle and chime—sonically rich and lexically wild—their syllables so deeply cast you can almost hear other syllables in them, worlds within worlds. Bones clacking and muscles moaning, their physicality makes meaning audible, and the pain becomes prayerful, ‘a rendition of, at least, eternity.’”—Aaron Shurin
“McCollough’s poems in Rank, as in most of his collections, come from the inner part of himself that is a cosmic being. He tunes into the cosmos and receives it, which is what being alive is: ‘I could kill for the songs, I could.’ Poetry comes from this ongoing inner state of being, between listening to the cosmos and responding to it. McCollough’s vision of eternity and our verdant patch of it is at once practical and mysterious. At some point while reading these poems, you’ll think of listening to the song ‘Nothing but Flowers’ by the Talking Heads. Strumming a guitar makes a flower bloom. The corporeal world is rank, grows over, around, above, inside, and without us. Let the universe in and change you.”—Arda Collins
TABLE OF CONTENTS
...
I CAN embrace life
...
I GUESS an iceflow came through
THE NAKED bones, especially the head,
SEIZED THERE where the thesis is
CAN'T FEEL the sun
I LOOK into the black bird’s black planet
WAKING ESCAPES from a hole somewhere;
NOT FLAWS. Signatures.
IN THIS many analogued book of animals
NOT UNDONE by length—declining
SLOW HERE, take a seat here.
SLICE OF fruit and cigarette slice of
STAYING IN a little cabin in the city.
ROSE DROOPED, ambulated the neighborhood
FROM THE counting house, dread
WALNUT SKULL of some brutal fairy
THE SUN really brings out the rot
IS SPRING penetrating,
RANK THISTLE gone to soft seed
...
SOMETIMES IN the kingdom of God
...
MEETING THE welling stream
Acknowledgments
REQUEST ACCESSIBLE FILE
If you are a student who cannot use this book in printed form, BiblioVault may be able to supply you
with an electronic file for alternative access.
Please have the accessibility coordinator at your school fill out this form.
It can take 2-3 weeks for requests to be filled.
ABOUT THIS BOOK | AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY | REVIEWS | TOC | REQUEST ACCESSIBLE FILE