Description
With undercurrents of danger and loss, Sennitt Clough’s film noir world is one of scarecrows and lantern men, apple maggots and apocalyptic bread, peat-bogs and plough blades, a place of ill-thoughts, open wounds, girls washed up. Like the elaborate systems of water and drainage, these poems are beautifully engineered and show admirable technical flair and range. With a quiet violence, words are said but not always spoken. To read these poems is to step into the bulrushes and sedge, to slip into the breach, uncertain of the ground underfoot.
Paul Stephenson
The poems in Elisabeth Sennitt Clough’s second collection dissect physical and emotional landscapes with a captivating intensity. Murky, sensual, myth-like, this is work of rich darkness. Able to unsettle, alarm and intoxicate, these accomplished poems will stir you long after reading.
Rebecca Goss
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