In Country

Martin (The Stick Soldiers), an Army National Guard veteran, reckons with the tension between occupier and occupied in these winding, rhythmic lyrics. He delves into the paranoia of American soldiers as well as Iraqis' terror and defiance, glimpsed as an elderly farmer demands payment for a blown-up tractor: "In one hand he holds a long shovel,/ rusted spade up, & he stumbles toward us & shouts." Martin describes well both the foreign landscape ("the creek clogged/ with black plastic bags that float,/ I think, like water lilies") and the banality of a battle zone: "At home, they don't know all I do:// aim at date palms." Meanwhile, military slang ("Hescos," "JP8," "terp") melds with poetic references: "No bombs but// in things. No IEDs but/ in things." Some readers may feel that the collection deals with the effects of the war without sufficiently considering its causes; the question from a woman at a club back home—"Should we be there?"—remains unaddressed and lingers in the background throughout. Martin's tight, muscular verse befits a soldier, but readers may wish for a less detached emotional presence and a deeper engagement with the Iraq War's historical context. (Nov.) Correction: A previous version of this review incorrectly stated the meaning of the book's title.