This debut book of poetry from the Plimpton Award–winning author of Census “displays an otherworldly virtuosity . . . coolly seductive and skillfully wrought” (DeSales Harrison, Boston Review).
Called “A young genius” by the Chicago Tribune, Jesse Ball has won acclaim for his novels and poetry combining skillful attention to form with a deeply resonant humanity. That same mastery of craft and vision are on display in his first published volume of poetry, March Book. With perfect line breaks, tenderly selected words, and inventive pairings, Ball leads us through his fantastic world.
In five separate sections we meet beekeepers and parsons, a young woman named Anna in a thin linen dress, and an old scribe transferring the eponymous March Book. We witness a Willy Loman-esque worker who “ran out in the noon street / shirt sleeves rolled, and hurried after / that which might have passed” only to be told that there’s nothing between him and “the suddenness of age.” While these images achingly inform us of our delicate place in the physical world, others remind us why we still yearn to awake in it every day and “make pillows with the down / of stolen geese,” “build / rooms in terms of the hours of the day.”
