Description
In her newest collection, Lorna Crozier describes the passage of time in the way that only she can. Her arresting, edgy poems about aging and grief are surprising and invigorating: a defiant balm. At the same time, she revels in the quirkiness and whimsy of the natural world: the vision of a fly, the naming of an eggplant, and a woman who — not unhappily — finds that cockroaches are drawn to her.
“God draws a life. And then rubs it out / with the eraser on his pencil.” Lorna Crozier draws a world in What the Soul Doesn’t Want, and then beckons us in. Crozier’s signature wit and striking imagery are on display as she stretches her wings and reminds us that we haven’t yet seen all that she can do.
Editorial Reviews
"[A] late career highlight… [Crozier[ can speak for the inanimate with whimsy and empathy, knows when and how to conjure sensuality, and can sneak in an emotional payload."
— Quill and Quire
"[N]ew poems by Lorna Crozier are always a reason for rejoicing."
— Globe and Mail
Fine New Collection
A welcome new collection by one of our most accomplished poets. Crozier’s carefully crafted work is distinguished by its humanity and wit. I particularly enjoyed “Cockroach,” a little masterpiece that has scurried across the pages into my heart.