a poetry collection by rob mclennan
published by Moira (Chicago; e-book available)
$14 US; order paper copies here;
cover photograph by John W. MacDonald;
Praise for Kate Street
Looking over Kate Street, over the rambling boulevard littered with "a permissible tryst", "a bedouin of shoes", the cagey tenderness of a father ushering his daughter into self-hood backlit by the "nuzzle-spent release of horror", one is compelled to trudge forward on the trail rob mclennan has generously broken, searching madly for "a pretty name for what we almost do." Love-worn, rage-prone, and intent upon reuniting with nature, these poems pick through the detritus of the contemporary conflagration without complaint, and deconstruct our flabby material acquisitions in search of real human connection. Never precious, these poems ask for forgiveness for their very existence in an oft-dismissive world, apocryphally offering: "I am at the end of the machine, extending whatever boundary of forgiveness that I would know too well." -- Paige Ackerson-Kiely
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