Slows Twice

In Slows: Twice, poet t. liem neither stews in the world nor hovers above it. Their tone is poised and raw; situations are painted with delicacy. The book itself is beautifully constructed, eschewing the much-vaunted emotional arc for a poetic form of its own making. Ten poems in the first half of this book are mirrored by poems bearing (almost) identical titles in the second half, creating natural cross-readings.

One poem is interpreted by its correlative: “Fix me to your idea of midnight. Meaning / I’m here if you need me,” reads the first poem titled “Request,” while the second “Request” declares “The technical term for this is drama / Meaning / leave me out of it.” Imperatives activate the reader—“Quiet your mind. Hard work and luck surround you”—as do questions, such as “Have you ever picked at your past until / it’s all drip and shine?” and “In the future will you chance the cold water of a body? What will you see waving from the other side of automatic?”

The long poem “The Second Half Folds in on Itself” hinges the two sections with brief, aerated stanzas. Throughout, liem claims the poem as a sanctuary and space for exploration. “Someone Asks How Have You Been” adds a word to each utterance until an entire claim has been formed: “There is a lyric I forget where the phrase is repeated like this: each iteration adds one more word until the thought has accumulated itself singing.” Elsewhere they state: “language is change / changed by prosody,” and

the real craving was
to be overheard
and repeated
out of someone else’s
mouth

It’s a desire likely to be slaked, for these poems bear rereading and sharing.