Shirley Geok-Lin Lim’s poems are set in the circumscribed worlds of home and Academia, but this is merely the way the author accesses larger issues of exile, identity, and artistic inspiration.

I see this poem as feminist ars poetica featuring the figure of a lone woman hauled before a panel of powerful misogynistic men and in the end silencing their petty objections by creating her own kind of irrefutable miracle.]]>

By the end of the poem the speaker wholly identifies with Thor, capable of destruction as well as creation and blessing, and the poem ends in a place of tremendous raw power and confidence with her joyfully striking the flat glowing disc of her “own sun.” What a wonderful affirmation of the act of creativity!

Through the use of fantastical elements and irony, the poem transforms into a strong negative commentary on what Yamini Pathak calls in her Poet’s Note “the traditional treatment of widows in Indian society.”

. . . That’s an effective strategy, choosing a title that multiplies associations in the reader’s mind even before the poem is read. It makes me curious to see where Anderson will go from here: Will the poem involve any of these things, or instead, play off of my expectations and surprise me?

I find today’s poems marvelously lyrical and experiential—phrases like “sweet deviant chant,” “less the nuance,” and “suave hours” give sharp delight in their sound and sense.

In the hands of writers who have the confidence to depart from the rules, poetic forms can marshal tremendous power. Poems like today’s show us just how effectively this can be done.