In her first poetry collection, Jessica Fox-Wilson explores her relationship with hunger from “childhood to womanhood, uncovering what it means to feel forever wanting.” The finished product, Blameless Mouth, achieves mixed success.
Diving headlong into personal issues, Fox-Wilson shares her unique perspective in many of the poems, including My Life in Fear, My Grandmother Always Used the Same Tea Bag Twice, and one of my favorites, Snapshot of Our Father: Swap Meet.
Unfortunately, with the exception of “Snapshot,” the more personal pieces feel self-indulgent and unfulfilling, as if from the perspective of one not yet distanced enough, through time or emotional growth, to serve the topics justly. Savvy readers want experience in voice, not judgment. They want learned truth, not youthful point-of-view. An unrevised feeling was particularly evident in Inside My Glass Coffin, Daughter to Mother, and Magazine Says: You’ve Worked Hard. I wanted literally to remove these pieces from the collection, making the book leaner but truer, because Fox-Wilson proves she is capable of brilliance and depth with many of the other poems in this self-published (Lulu.com) volume.
Eviction insightfully and compassionately relates the first couple’s banishment from Eden through Eve’s eyes. Satiety gives a gut-wrenchingly real taste of eating disorders; and several pieces, including Legacy on His Disappearance, Lucky Explorer, and Related Events, whet the appetite and leave the reader craving more. In these strong pieces, Fox-Wilson serves up universal topics and experiences, and convinces the reader of the validity of her perspective, the truth in her voice.
Throughout the 87-page paper volume, Fox-Wilson uses a variety of constructs and forms, providing visual relief and interest. Unfortunately, many of the layouts seem arbitrary and unnecessary, detracting from content and meaning and leaving the reader to ask “Why?”
Fox-Wilson certainly has a gift for writing; and her talent and design savvy are apparent, but the work would have been better served under the guidance of an experienced editor. Culling the not-quite-done would have resulted in a fabulous little book.
I think survival is at stake for all of us all the time.
Every poem, every work of art, everything that is well done, well made, well said, generously given,
adds to our chances of survival.
– Philip Booth
In the rush to write one a day
The push, the pressure, the sway
I’ll not deny, nor delay
Quality
Integrity
Value
And
Verity
Because with each stroke
I AM adding
To our chances of survival.
It’s vital.
Passionate
We
Commit for life
I AM married to my perfect match and the blessings therefrom overflow. He allows me to be me, to do what pleases me, to grow and evolve and to change.
I AM overjoyed by the fact that I’ve been gifted with time to care for others, write, garden, create art… in essence, to add to the literal, spiritual and emotional beauty of the world.
I feel deep gratitude to find myself in a position to follow inspiration, to inspire others, to work at wellness, and to share that, too.
I would be remiss to think that these blessings are “less than” those received by more highly compensated workers of the world.
I AM lucky and I know it.
Squandering the joys, the gifts, the blessings, the good-luck would, indeed, be sinful.
Shattered and battered’s how I feel today
Simply can’t sort myself out
Black dog and doom set up camp on my chest
My ere-conquered demons pound out
Blue and dismayed at not one thing at all,
I AM feeling not nearly myself
Anxious and edgy, so tired I might fall,
Must release this,
Must sit down and write.