I Weave a Nest of Foil

I Weave a Nest of Foil by Arlene Naganawa is a book filled with language and imagery that constantly surprises. Reading these poems, nothing is quite what one expects with "gulls scatter like paper napkins," "blood-sigh of valves," or "I like how you encased your organs in a box." Here, the natural world is full of ghosts, secrets, and a subtle warning about contradictions: "My mother said, if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything,/ but she said not-nice things, so...
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I Weave a Nest of Foil by Arlene Naganawa is a book filled with language and imagery that constantly surprises. Reading these poems, nothing is quite what one expects with "gulls scatter like paper napkins," "blood-sigh of valves," or "I like how you encased your organs in a box." Here, the natural world is full of ghosts, secrets, and a subtle warning about contradictions: "My mother said, if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything,/ but she said not-nice things, so many I had to close my ears." Multi-layered and understated, each poem reveals a master of euphony at work. What we're left with is brief, startling and haunting.