Sprawling, delicious, wise and profound poems fill this little fortune. An eight-page reflection on nighttime ambulance driving. A plumbing and deeply surreal exploration of the beauty and necessity of failure. Meditations on howling rebirth and death by stoning. God of Fire is well-worth its name. These poems burn.
One part tribute to a French auteur, one part gritty fictional autobiography about powerlessness and cutting oneself to a French film backdrop, Dirt Cabaret isn’t much if not provocative. Lisa Gill guides us through a choppy narrative of teen years and slightly beyond, in which resolution comes in the form of hardening.
In some respects a prose poem, in some flash fiction.