Imagination Verses

It is a brave thing for a poet of Moxley's 30-ish generation, raised on the skeptical and purposeful obfuscations of L-A-N-G-U-A-G-E poetry, to allow herself to write lyrics in the original sense. An overflow of emotion at the recognition of the beloved is poured through musical language: ""each time I walk into you my city-bound Greyhound/ rolls through rain drenched streets,/ a lightscape of traffic and wonderous people/ lies ahead...."" Calling upon elegant allusions (""unstitch Minerva and the Earth awakes""), wry colloquialisms (""a big budget house in the country"") and the informed use of archaic constructions (""bedded be my wilderness/ bookish my landscape and sea""), Moxley skillfully avoids both an oversimplified rhetoric of self and an easy irony. An acute social critic is also at work, finding femininity obliquely pushed through the media's language of commerce: ""It's as if to be real/ you and I must garner backers/ without a rib to call our own."" Like George Oppen and Susan Howe, Moxley uses language to sweep our literary heritage out from beneath ""the towering worry of fin de siecle,"" informing a present that is simultaneously personal and political: ""We might lust for others, but never may/ obscure meaning/ in a claim of taken space."" In this accomplished debut collection-dedicated ""To my Contemporaries""-a remarkably distinctive voice speaks directly to our hearts and minds. (Dec.)