I received this book from The Next Best Book Club in exchange for an honest review.
“I was waiting for its eyes to open, and when they did not, it felt like slowly sewing shut the sky,” (A Picnic [1], My Off-the-Market Magic Carpet, Niespodziany 57).
One day I will know how to review poetry. I’ll know what right words to use to say how a poem made me feel something, what the metaphors meant to me, the images the author was able to put into my head with their words.
Unfortunately, I’ll have to stumble through it until then.
No Farther Than the End of the Street is a collection of poems looking at various homes of a neighbourhood. It’s weird and surreal, and anyone not familiar with the style may need to do a double take when reading. Luckily, I love strange writing so this was a win for me!
Some of the poems hurt, some ache, some of them are heartbreaking. A couple film a viral video in which one of them eats their own eyes on a livestream and later the missing eyes half gets new eyes that the other doesn’t acknowledge. It’s a bizarre summary to give, and I’m sure I haven’t given it as much pathos as Nispodziany did, but it’s an aching poem of co-dependency and the dangers of some relationships. Giving bits and pieces of yourself to someone you love only for them to deny that the sacrifice has even occurred.
It made me want to cry.
I’m a sucker for the weird, the surreal, and the truths that lie between them all. Niespodziany does all this and more in No Farther Than The End of the Street. This truly strange collection of poetry is one you won’t want to miss!
Publication: November 1st 2022
Publisher: Okay Donkey Press
Pages: 100 pages (PDF)
Source: Owned (Thanks TNBBC!)
Genre: Fiction, Poetry, Surreal
My Rating: ⛤⛤⛤⛤
Summary:
Nothing within the pages of Benjamin Niespodziany’s debut, full-length collection, NO FARTHER THAN THE END OF THE STREET, happens outside the confines of a single neighborhood block. Every word inside this book takes place in the young couple’s home, or on the front lawn, or in the backyard, or just down the way at a neighbor’s house, but never does it stray beyond where the street ends. If you notice any of the characters tiptoeing where they don’t belong, please be sure to let the author know for this is a contained space for the author and his poems to play.
Sarah O'Connor 