In “anti poetica,” the opening poem of Bluff by Danez Smith, they announce there is “no poem to free you.” Smith asks: How can one read poetry at a time like this? When our world is burning, when a pandemic stalls our lives, and the poet’s hometown of Minneapolis is the site of a devastating murder? We cannot read poetry at a time like this, and yet, within Bluff, there are almost 150 pages of poetry begging to be read—haunting, grief-stricken, hopeful poetry. Therein lies the conceit of Bluff: contradiction, particularly the contradiction of being a Black American. “i voted. i decreed. i agreed/ to the kill. i’m full grown. taxes paid. i built the bomb,” they write. In Smith’s fourth collection, the National Book Award finalist takes a physical and spiritual tour of Minneapolis and of their own psyche.
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