Canned is a chapbook of poems about loss and disappointment, wonder and joy. Sometimes prismatic. Sometimes pissy.
The poet Matthew Arnold said of brevity, “Have something to say, and say it as clearly as you can. That is the only secret.” Poet Tori Grant Welhouse not only embodies that rare economy of language, her imagery is often startling, getting at the painful ‘aha’ moments of life deftly. I truly enjoyed this book from cover to cover.
–Lucy Simpson, reader, poet and artist
When he summons her the gears of her heart freewheel. That’s what she remembers -- careening behind her ribcage. No brakes to the thing set in motion by some immutable guylaw. Depend on it, he says, blowing smoke from a gourd, hollowed-out calabash, voice creeping righteous in her ear, This will turn out swell for you. He slides across the desk a Separation Agreement. All she can hear are s’s, scapegoat slings c l o t t i n g ophidian eyes.