
Imago by Joseph O. Legaspi
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
I’m not even sure if this book needs a review from me, but I have to say I fell in love with it. I won’t belabor the point but this was a collection where I found myself stopping to go back and read poems before I even wanted to go on; this is a collection I didn’t want to end. Legaspi has a gifte for taking topics (like growing up – as most of these poems reflect back on) and somehow avoiding the potential cliches that come with those topics.
I love many of the poems, but one of my favorites is “The Red Sweater” where Legaspi writes, “hours are merely links / in the chain of days startlingly similiar, that being in the blue morning with my mother / putting on her polyester uniform, which, / even when it’s newly-washed, smells / of mashed beans and cooked ground beef.” I know I have a poem that thinks back on my own mother and her clothes that smelled like BBQ and ice cream. I can relate even though the smells were different; that is a wonderful gift to bring to a poem – empathy.
I can’t recommend this one enough, but if you want me to quibble on one thing it might be the final poem. I may be hung up on final poems lately, but I felt this piece – perhaps – tried to sum up too much in a somewhat surreal place. I missed the more concrete poems that came earlier and I would have been thrilled if he had ended with one of the other two poems that came just before the final one.
But, who am I to say?





