cover image Howdie-Skelp

Howdie-Skelp

Paul Muldoon. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, $26 (192p) ISBN 978-0-374-60295-6

Muldoon’s energetic 14th collection brims with the poet’s characteristic wit, employing a seemingly endless array of cultural references and allusions to illuminate the troubled present. In a long poem titled “American Standard” (a reference to the toilet brand), Muldoon recasts T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land into a commentary on America’s continuing moral and political backsliding: “Through fire and flood we rode towards Paradise/ where every disaster’s a natural disaster/ and every word a word of advice/ from the ringleted Buffalo Bill, our ringmaster.” In “Salonica,” a Mediterranean city becomes a symbol for how layers of contested history make it difficult to find common ground, when “in the Archaeological Museum there’s at least one artifact/ from a past we simply cannot reenact.” Muldoon comes close to a statement of intent in a poem referencing space junk: “It’s the artist’s job to collect detritus and guide it back towards earth’s atmosphere/ since it’s in that flash, the flash/ of reentry, that something may be made clear.” Whether appraising Brexit or the pandemic, Muldoon’s acerbic yet thoughtful poems demonstrate his ear for lyric and eye for detail. (Nov.)