THE DAY EVERY DAY IS

A wide-ranging volume of poetry explores mythological figures, relationships, and the natural world.

Upton marries past with present, myth with reality, and ideas with emotions in this collection of poetry. Greek mythological characters feature heavily in the book. She depicts the murder of Hyacinth and takes on the voice of rape victim Danaë. Actaeon and Eurydice merit their own poems as well. Nature is another prominent theme. Upton considers noisy insects that “give the tree a voice” and wonders if it is fair to trick forsythia into believing it’s spring by placing it before a sunny window. Two sacks of mushrooms given a week apart inspire the poet to ask: “What other gifts are wasted on us?” The sight of a centipede in the shower prompts her to ponder: “How strange we must seem / to God. How sometimes we must / frighten him, how he must wish we would just / crawl away.” Intense religious moments, such as the stone in front of Jesus’ tomb being rolled away, and biblical figures, like Adam and Eve, are jumping-off points for other poems. As the book draws to a close, the author’s personal relationships become more prominent. In “The Blanket,” the poet considers her roles as a daughter and a mother and the ways they overlap. Upton is an austere but evocative writer. She details how the “milkweed blossoms / fade as if antique”; the way a willow “slouches as if it were in a classroom”; and the “pine’s greenness / frosted like a forged dollar bill.” The author is well read, as evidenced by references to everything from Shakespeare and Rilke to Shirley Jackson. Upton is also insightful; she wonders why “we give our hours away” to actors “as if our hours aren’t magnificent” and notes that “privacy is a kind of power.” Her honesty is unflinching, but she also injects humor into her work. In “Why Am I Not Invited to Your Party?” she recalls how she used to dance “like someone being stung / by ferocious bees.” The only time she goes too far is when she describes how “steam hisses off the oiled husks of him” and “flesh / slides to his ankles like a stocking” during the satyr Marsyas’ skinning. But even then, it’s hard to fault her for such skillful writing.

A vivid, compelling collection by an erudite poet.