Meh . . . a couple good lines and images, but mostly Contemporary Poetry. Lots of poems that end with a single image (usually a capital-M Metaphor) trying to perfectly wrap things up by not appearing to be a definite ending. Sometimes they work, but mostly I just notice how she's trying. Maybe Duende is better.

A wide-ranging debut collection of poems, set mostly in California, exploring everything from pangs of appetite to the trials of life on the borderlands. Smith inhabits many voices here, and the plainspoken writing’s solid but not as strong as her later work.

Tracy K. Smith. Tracy K. Smith. Tracy K. f*cking Smith. She makes me want to make words again, but infects me with her language and lineation so that I am not sure where my work begins and where my ineffectual echo of her ends. She makes me want to weep, she makes me weep- and laugh and nod and raise my fist. She has FLOW, like the best of performance poets- she has wisdom and makes pictures in my head that ebb and flow and I need her to release another book now. Please.

Not the flame, but what it promised,Surrender. To be quenched of danger.I torched toothpicks to watch themCurl around themselves like living things,Panicked and aglow. I would wake,Sheets wrinked and damp, and riseFrom that print of myself,From that sleep-slack dummy self.Make me light.No one missed my shadowMoving behind the house, so I led itTo the dry creek-bed and laid it downAmong thistledown, nettle,Things that hate water as I hateThat weak, ash-dark self. I stood above it,A silent wicked

As with _Life on Mars_, I really wanted to like this book of poetry more. I love Smith’s use of language. While there were a few poems I loved (such as “Mangoes” and “Appetite”), so many of the poems lack enough context or concreteness for me to make sense of them. They seem to be written to herself or to a specific person, not the general reader.

I'm just gonna quote stuff.I really liked the first poem, "Something Like Dying, Maybe."But section I was only mostly to my liking with the exception of the last half of "Gospel: Miguel (El Lobito)"Whoever wonWould go into the woodsAnd take whatever grew.That night, we sat on the hillWatching the fires burn.They'll still be slaves,He said. NothingThat means anythingHas changedBy far my favorite is section I of "Drought"The hydrangea begins as a small, bright world.Mother buries rusty nails, and

Studded with brilliant imagery.

The Body’s Question, winner of the Cave Canem prize, is Tracy K. Smith’s first book of poetry. Kevin Young’s introduction is quite brilliant and points out a lot what is beautiful about the book. The metaphors in the book are not as explosively surprising as what I prefer, but there is a lot to admire in this book. Her control of the line is pretty genius. Take “Self Portrait as the Letter Y:” Was kind of a rebel then. Took two cars. Took Bad advice. Watched people’s Asses. Sniffed their heads.

(really 4.5! i wish you could do 1/2 stars on goodreads :( ) when i read her i felt like i was melting. i was most struck by her cadence and word flow. it made me feel like i was melting, it was so smooth. some gorgeous lines too. definitely going to re-read and investigate some of her other works! i recommend!

A strong debut.

Tracy K. Smith's beautifully crafted debut collection lets the reader enter a new realm. The language is simplistic (meaning easily to follow) but still colloquial and sophisticated. It's rich in metaphors and images. All words possess great power and help to expand our language about the body as much more than a place of feelings, memories, experiences, dreams, etc. With other words, the reader can very much feel the moments that were put into each imaginary, such as in Five dreams of offspring...

I would give this book 6 stars if I could, or 600. I read our Poet Laureate's books in reverse order, Life on Mars when it first came out, and only got to Duende and this recently. This might be my favorite. The voice is so beguiling, by turns colloquial and sophisticated, with so many arresting images and metaphors.

I'd say this is 2.5 stars, partway between "it was OK" and "I liked it". Smith's word-smithing is great, but often I felt like I loved certain lines but that the entire poem lacked a coherent center. She'd lose me about halfway through, I'd reread a line and love it, then try to reread the whole poem and get lost in the same way again. Perhaps subsequent readings will help.

Debut collection of poetry in 2002 by Tracy K Smith, current poet laureate of the United States. Even with this early writing of hers, one could sense that she was destined for poetry stardom. Luscious words, straddling two cultures, thought provoking prose of time and place. I have now read all of her poetry collections and will either have to wait impatiently for the next one or go back and read all of her other work. Tracy K Smith is the poet I am most drawn to, and one of few authors that I

So redolent of speech that it's too perfect for speaking. Is that one of poetry's definitions?

The first book of poems by the Poet Laureate of the United States.Poetry Review: The Body's Question is an amazing first book, and reassuring in that contemporary American poets are still writing poetry this wonderful. Tracy K. Smith creates within the great tradition of lyric poetry, but her poems are fresh, individual, and modern (yet retro enough to capitalize every line). Too many poets today write poetry so opaque that it couldn't be deciphered by a CIA analyst. Or write poems so accessible...

Her debut collection, already you see the voice that I’ve come to love, that in itself is music, while crafting these evocative scenes that make you face your own, as the best art does.“You are looking tooIn that language you exhaleLike globes of airThat rise and breakOn the surface of what is real.I love you. These are notThe words any moreThan that hidden skin,Dark from childhoodIn a place too beautifulTo exist, is you.But I reach for itAnd we are closer.”—excerpt from “The Machinery of Evenin...

I like the fact that her poetry is personal and intimate, yet she provides windows and doors that allow you to enter in and look around. We see the private universe(al) through her eyes and voice without seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps because there is no tunnel.

DroughtNot the flame, but what it promised,Surrender. To be quenched of danger.I torched toothpicks to watch themCurl around themselves like living things,Panicked and aglow. I would wake,Sheets wrinkled and damp, and riseFrom that print of myself,From that sleep-slack dummy self.Make me light.No one missed my shadowMoving behind the house, so I led itTo the dry creek-bed and laid it downAmong thistledown, nettle,Things that hate water as I hateThat weak, ash-dark self.I stood above it,A silent

This is the fourth book I have read by Smith. Here, in her first book, she reminds me of Rita Dove in GRACE NOTES. A lot to like in the imagery, but the contexts are personal to Smith. Therefore, there will be always some distance and limitation for the reader, to know whom Smith is writing about, and why. I enjoy the collection, but I would recommend her more recent collections first.