Jasper Kerkau’s Review of Millicent Borges Accardi’s Only More So
“I will never write another review,” at least that is what I told myself. It is a draining process, as I heap great responsibility on myself to navigate the words of the poet and give a proper context to their writing. More specifically, I only write about those noble souls who find their fiber of the universe to pull, as the mortals run in circles, procreating, feasting on the mundane, and seeking solace in profane, menial tasks. Millicent Borges Accardi contacted me after my interview with Melissa Studdard and the review of her stunning collection of poetry I Ate the Cosmos for Breakfast. I had no intention of writing another long-form review, amid the struggle of publishing our first two books and my work with the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective. I have received many requests for reviews (some of which I will get around to eventually) but I discovered something in the poetry of Accardi that called to me, spoke to me on a level that most poetry does not. In her work, I discovered the undeniable poetic truth that is a rarity. In Only More So (Salmon Poetry), Accardi opens her heart, not only displaying her succinct use of language to articulate her experience, but also, gifting the reader with glimpses of memory, and sentimentality that gives credence to the notion that poetry is not dead. Only More So dwells in that place where poets yearn for truth, casting words as spells in a world that has lost its belief in magic.
I like any reader, bring my feelings and emotions to a collection such as Only More So. The poems exist in different realms. From the opening poem, “On a Theme by William Stafford,” a beautiful homage to Stafford’s “The Emperor of Ice Cream,” to “Buying Sleep” a poem in which Accardi reaches back into the crevasses of time to express a complex, soft memory, her work leaves me transfixed and yearning for more. “Buying Sleep” conjures my moment in the darkness, my own conflicted, sentimental moments, twisting in time, swirling in the dust of eternity:
“Wanna buy some sleep?” In the darkness
I nod and, then realizing years later
Say, “Yes,” aloud and so he begins
He gathers up a cocoon of sleep
Almost as he loved me. (17)
Accardi’s writing moves from complex sentimentality, to “The Night of Broken Glass” and “In Prague,” distinct poems taking the reader to different locales, unique places, expressing something that is distinct and universal. Accardi’s “In Prague” beguiled me with her stinging, poetic truth:
Take me where memory makes my legs move.
Take me where moss holds language.
Take me where we have a name for the things we do. (23)
It is here that I find common ground with Accardi, myself seeking the place where “moss holds language.” It is a concise moment of perfect poetic expression, the longing, the yearning, the desire to go where “stones are full…wrapped around kin I cannot have, wisdom for the hungry…” She tips her hand, showing herself to not only have a special dispensation to expression the language of the Gods, but also to be a seer, a poet of the highest order.
Only More So is a revelatory collection of poems that are universal and deeply personal. Accardi takes us to strange places, takes on different voices, speaking to the reader softly, and then exploding with expression rooted in the human condition. From “This is What People Do,” a refulgent glimpse of normal life, to the quiet spirituality of “Faith,” I fell into Accardi’s orbit. It is a special place, a supernatural quilt where all can find their truth, their sadness, and yearning. This experience, digging into the heart of Accardi’s vision, is a validation for myself; it reminds me why I am on an endless quest to find the magic, to find the magicians, those who draw me into their web of enchantment, based on truth and words. Only More So is a must-read for anyone who shares my love of the special language only great poets speak.
Please read her bio at Wikipedia.