The Body Ghost

September 3, 2018
In this spare, evocative collection from Lease (Testify), few things stick around for long except the body in various guises—whether it’s one “crammed in/ a mailbox,” or “just a blue suit with bones/ sticking out.” Worldly objects flitter like leaves caught in a whirlwind; some repeat—including vodka, rain, moon, and the soul—while others stand as witty signposts, such as “death-flavored ice-cream” or “deathberry gum.” Death is the topic at hand: the death of a father, the soul, and the natural world. “Google buys the/ sun inside your name,” Lease writes. The poems are painterly, evoking smears and drips, and no conclusive narrative outs itself. But rhythmically they convey an entirely different sensation, a driving beat that holds the pieces together: “we drink/ to death, we smear the sky—soft wind—the/ soul beneath the soul beneath the soul.” Of the collection’s nine sections, three are named “The Body Ghost” and most concern loss as a function of capitalism, but “Mercy” is a moving love poem in which Lease writes, “and all the words—all the hands—you/ dream me—dream me there—soft mist,/ soft kiss.” Both hope and despair are evident amid Lease’s music, while the ghosts hide until they’re summoned.