Fascinated by what emerges from unlikely sources when absorbed into memory, Gale Marie Thompson's poems delight in what remains: John Wayne, Bewitched, turnip fields, camellias and canned figs, and--of course--kitchens. Soldier On uses the light of the kitchen as a starting (and ending) point to explore remembered spaces, which take on new facets and textures in a flood of associations and the mind's endless cross-indexing. Inside a world of objects, people, and artifacts, Soldier On constructs the language in which we love and lose love.
Fascinated by what emerges from unlikely sources when absorbed into memory, Gale Marie Thompson's poems delight in what remains: John Wayne, Bewitched, turnip fields, camellias and canned figs, and--of course--kitchens. Soldier On uses the light of the kitchen as a starting (and ending) point to explore remembered spaces, which take on new facets and textures in a flood of associations and the mind's endless cross-indexing. Inside a world of objects, people, and artifacts, Soldier On constructs the language in which we love and lose love.
