Many Poems

Skillfully translated by Almeida, Iannamico’s debut volume is sweet and serious by turns, endowing everyday encounters with transformative potential and swiftly closing the gap between the material and the metaphoric. In the nine-line poem “Dresses,” she moves from the idea that dresses are “the best kind of garment/ for the spirit” to the assertion that “there are dresses/ that are spirits/ on their own.” Most entries are similarly airy and short, reviving familiar experiences in the space of a few lines. A bed with “clean sheets recently made” becomes an envelope, and the sleeper in it a letter. In the rain, a “house pulsates/ warm inside/ wet outside/ like a seed/ about to grow.” As night comes, “the crickets turn on” just as the radio does. Iannamico’s images are meant to be accessible: “to write is to graffiti,” according to one poem. The wind and clouds recur as motifs; clouds are seen as “lovers approaching each other/ ominously/ lovingly,” and the wind turns out to be created by the beating wings of a bird so big “it takes up the whole sky.” Readers will be won over by this charming collection. (Dec.)