TELL ME

The bluntness of the title of Addonizio's third collection suggests she might be in the business of questioning. Here, however, is a book of answers, bold statements about the danker spots of the poet's existence, alongside some rather keen observations of life's ironies ("Now that you're finally happy / you notice how sad your friends are"). While there is nothing particularly new here in terms of style or content—no wild innovations of form or thematic jolts—the poems are compelling. Addonizio's musings on experience ripple with a captivating energy, and her conversational tone invites the reader to internalize her words by reading them aloud. That said, one is occasionally reminded of country songs when the subject again turns to drinking too much or loving too long. But there is a humor and cynicism present that saves many of these poems on aging, ennui, and longing from harangue. A part-time lecturer in creative writing at the University of San Francisco, Addonizio is no stranger to the wasteland of workshop poetry, and even goes so far as to comment on the instructor's role in its production: "listen / I was a beautiful woman, / you think I want to be standing up here, lecturing? Look again." Addonizio is not interested in creating for the reader a new world through images, but rather attempts to draw one into the past she is trying to write herself out of.

Worth a look: in her repeated striving for closer intimacy with the reader, Addonizio finally delivers far more than she demands.