cover image Scattered at Sea

Scattered at Sea

Amy Gerstler. Penguin, $20 (96p) ISBN 978-0-14-312689-8

Gerstler (Dearest Creature), winner of the 1991 National Book Critics Circle Award for Bitter Angel, once again brilliantly amplifies the natural world in this blisteringly humorous 11th collection. Never shy, the poems zip between black comedy and earthy odes: “Regret clogs arteries. We stuff ourselves// with bread and sex. Then ash provides/ the most natural last transport// imaginable.” Each of the book’s five sections presents new speculations, references, and philosophies—a section titled “Womanish” provides distinctive gender commentary by cross-hatching social norms with absurdities: “A man’s sweat can get you pregnant. Beware./ Women have been fertilized by animal bites, dreams,/ swallowing insects, seawater, eating beans.” Gerstler’s dextrous poems work as satire as well as truthful reflections of humanness, often beautifully crushing in their honesty: “what shall remain/ of the hand-me-down earth/ for the meek to claim/ when lovers of blood sport/ have finished with it/ only a welling up/ of that last gasp: vapors of vapors.” What is most compelling is Gerstler’s dynamic consideration of spirituality, afterworlds, and reincarnations—dense subjects spellbound with unexpected brevity: “In one life I was a monk who won a newborn in a bet/ In this life Lord knows what is to happen yet.” Gerstler’s latest proves to be delightful, surreal and well-rounded book. [em](June) [/em]