Let us begin with the delicate, laddered web of the title: Advance the Engine Summer. Is it a dyslexic plea? An imperative? An observation on the relentless progression of beauty and decay? The title poem captures a kind of almost irrational optimism that against cold odds, summer will follow winter—with April proofing the galleys:
Advance the engine summer. Dress cold window boxes in green Leaves to fill the rifts in The unfolding of noon….
Michael Leggs’ poetry, always written in complete lyrical sentences, resonates in a painful yet beautiful world in which his verse seeks traction. And unlike the impenetrable mysteries of so many modern collections, the reader of Advance The Engine Summer can enter these poems seriously with the confidence that time spent will not be wasted—with the knowledge that there is more in these than we might have hoped for. Leggs builds something here that is rare in modern Read More
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