Ryan's distinctive style may have emerged in the poems of the previous volume,
Flamingo Watching, but it was perfected with mastery in
Elephant Rocks. Part Stevie Smith, part Emily Dickinson, part Marianne Moore, a dash of William Blake, and all Kay Ryan, that style is a feat itself -- compressed but expansive, terse but aerated, wry but warm, all achieved through masterful craftsmanship employing easy-flowing meter, clever and surprising rhymes, and uncanny line breaks.
I considered using my final selection on her subsequent volume,
Say Uncle, but I think
Elephant Rocks is the right choice because, as I said, she really perfected her style with it, and because it contains so many great poems -- "A Plain Ordinary Steel Needle Can Float on Pure Water," "Crib," "How Birds Sing," "Outsider Art," "Living With Stripes," "A Cat/A Future," and on and on.
Amazon link here.
David R.
(Bruce --
Say Uncle was the 2000 publication I was considering. The shameful truth is that, while I have great respect for his undeniable talent, Wilbur has never grabbed me. There, I said it.)