The poems in Furs Not Mine display Andrea Cohen's masterful craft and lyricism and her keen wit. In Cohen's elegiac shoals, we see how "Great griefs are antidotes / for lesser sorrows," and in her strange, surprising narratives, we glimpse a man darting into traffic for a hubcap, "meaning to build his dream / vehicle from scrap." These poems, too, have the feel of dreamy constructions, in which bliss "from a distance, can look like pain." That's the magic of this collection: it holds loss and promise in the same image--sometimes even the same word.
The poems in Furs Not Mine display Andrea Cohen's masterful craft and lyricism and her keen wit. In Cohen's elegiac shoals, we see how "Great griefs are antidotes / for lesser sorrows," and in her strange, surprising narratives, we glimpse a man darting into traffic for a hubcap, "meaning to build his dream / vehicle from scrap." These poems, too, have the feel of dreamy constructions, in which bliss "from a distance, can look like pain." That's the magic of this collection: it holds loss and promise in the same image--sometimes even the same word.
