136.1: Ed Skoog:: The High Chasm & the Drop Ceiling & Let the Candidate Finish & The Train Runs Late Through My Arms
1 April 2013
Ed Skoog writes of his own aesthetic that he is interested in how “the poetic mode can be at once coldly artificial and hotly personal.” As I read this group of poems, I come to understand this statement through a sparseness that both intrigues and pushes away from the reader. Skoog keeps each line short: the longest line among these poems is seven syllables. Among such short lines, a line with six syllables reads like arms spread wide and ready to embrace us. These lines are also often the most independent and intimate—“I don’t really see this,” “let the coyotes die,” “I turn into a fish.”