Juvenilia

Bird’s first full-length collection, Hera Lindsay Bird, was a bestseller in her native New Zealand. Her energetic second volume moves from comedic adolescent shame to the sexual travesties and wisdom of early adulthood: “Now I have a Masters degree in poetry and no longer wet myself/ But I still have to die in antiquated flowers.” Randomly absurd at times, histrionic yet fresh, the poems accelerate and teeter on the edge: “That’s what love is like.../ It’s like firing a gun into a time machine and accidentally hitting Hitler.../ it’s like masturbating to a documentary on South African mines and ejaculating real diamonds.” Bird delivers emotion offset by absurdity (“life is great/ it’s like being given a rare and historically significant flute/ and using it to beat a harmless old man to death”) as she moves from failed hookups to triumphant love. And if “there’s nothing in this world more boring than heartbreak,” there are also poems like “WILD GEESE BY MARY OLIVER BY HERA LINDSAY BIRD,” which respectfully infuses that too-famous work with the tragic lightness of Frank O’Hara. If “poetry is fake nostalgia,” might this be where it ends? Not for Bird, one hopes. These intense poems will keep readers laughing, for better or for worse. (June)