Kirjahaku

Subtler, subtler, beat our hearts / down aisles of cluttered glitz.Unbecoming, Neil Surkan's sophomore collection, clings to hope while the world deteriorates, transforms, and grows less hospitable from moment to moment. Interplaying tenderness with dogged perseverance, these poems tumble through vignettes of degraded landscapes, ebbing spiritual communities, faltering men, and precarious friendships.Yet, in the face of such despair, responsibility and optimism bolster one another – exuberance, amazement, and compassion persist despite the worsening of the wounded Earth. Multifaceted and inventive, this collection of poems vaults from intimation to excoriation, where grief, desire, bewilderment, and protest all crackle and meld. As the world "appears, exceeds, and un- / becomes too quickly for certainty, / just enough for love," the poems in Unbecoming face the horizon with wary eyes and refuse to turn away.

(one can make / while being unmade) In a powerful interplay of striking descriptions with tender intimations, Empties, Neil Surkan's third poetry collection, reckons with fatherhood in a depleted and collapsing environment: Is it possible to nurture new shoots while the fires close in? Feelings of emptiness, acts of emptying, and physical empties coalesce in these vivid and timely poems. Through a queer lens, Surkan's speaker scrutinizes masculinity and fatherhood as he confronts the necessary emptiness that comes with becoming someone's ancestor. Arrays of drained and discarded entities – empty bottles, broken pots and cups – summon a world, husked and untenably extracted, that teeters toward collapse, but even those empty spaces are receptacles for fleeting moments of vulnerability and tenderness. At its core, Empties explores the conditions of life on the verge of hopelessness. It finds, among shadows of doom and despair, unlikely but nonetheless inevitable reasons to hope. These are poems that teach endurance "in the face of all that won't / be saved" while still finding much in the world "to cherish / as it brinks." In direness, there is also awe: one mustn't forget, Surkan reminds us, that only empty bottles can sing.

All songs have skin, / all skin has holes. On High, Neil Surkan's debut collection of poetry, searches for spirits in myriad places. Wondering how, why, and when to act with a conscience, speakers try out steep hikes, strong drugs, and earnest meditations as they attempt to make meaning in a divided and distracting world. Careful and tense, On High balances on all kinds of tightrope-like lines: a trout fisher revels after riding a moose, a buzzed lover speculates about human connection, new condo owners toast from balcony to balcony, a young woman kicks a hornet's nest into her hometown library's erotica/poetry/religion section. Reaching for the sprigs of our shared humanity, Surkan's poems offer courage and compassion in violent times. As the speaker in "The Branch Breaker" muses, "sarcasm won't dissolve our enemies." On High is a book for the contemporary moment.