Poetry of ambivalence, humour, and doubt that belies a kind of optimism
Dumpster fires outside discount stores and rotting whale carcasses;
optical illusions and memento mori--all "coming to you direct, / by way
of this Rube Goldberg machine." Failure to Thrive zigzags through
excess, taking in the big picture through the lens of a pinhole camera.
These poems ask us to lean into our senses, to "spend time loitering,
slipping coins into attention's slots, / anticipating the next big
pay-off." Hip and cerebral, this witty collection is as quick to make
fun of itself as it is to turn its humour outward, where false
historians have free rein, answers come in the form of questions, and
the apocalypse seems like a good time to knit a sweater. Suzannah
Showler's debut shows us how a failing world can be the site of
aesthetic renewal rather than decline.