BK Fis­cher, Mad Creek Books (FE­BRU­ARY) Soft­cover $16.95 (88pp), 978-0-8142-5464-6

Foreword Reviews - - Spotlight Reviews -

Ooooh, baby, the gloves are off. In Ra­dioapoc­rypha, BK Fis­cher has done imag­ined Je­sus Christ as a buff chem­istry teacher in Mary­land in 1989. Does she not fear bolts of light­ning? The au­thor of two other su­perb col­lec­tions, Mutiny Gallery and St. Rage’s Vault, Fis­cher is the po­etry edi­tor at Bos­ton Re­view.


Sweet Maren, re­lent. You are naked be­cause you peeled your damp tank top over your head as you slept. You were clench-jawed and call ing out about the Iron Cur­tain and the iron lung, voodoo, Vir­ginia Woolf, Water­gate, the last man stand­ing in a field of wheat. You’re here, with me, in the bed­room. Sit up and see by moon­light—there’s the pic­ture on the wall, the shape of the fruit, the shaded side of the bowl. Find your spot here on my chest, your damp ear, damp ten­dril. A car­pet will slip on its car­pet pad. Proph­e­sies will cease, tongues will be stilled, knowl­edge will pass away. Only love re­mains. You don’t need to get up again for a drink of wa­ter. You don’t need to pee. You don’t need to put your knee on the van­ity to get a closer look at your im­per­fec­tions. Be­lieve me. The per­fect is the en­emy of the good.

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