bodys by Vanessa Roveto is the poet’s first collection of poetry. Roveto does not have much of a public biography. I did find this, “Vanessa Roveto is a writer living in the United States” which is further updated by the University of Iowa Press as “Vanessa Roveto is a writer living in the San Fernando Valley. ”
It is weird, sometimes, the way we like things. Why do you like blue or spaghetti? You just do and it does little good to explain it even if you could. bodys is something like that. I enjoyed it and was captivated by it, but the reasoning is difficult to explain. Starting with the title, it is neither (the proper) plural nor possessive, however, in practice, it could be both.
The opening poem drops the reader into an uncomfortable feeling situation. The reader is a voyeur who seems to have wandered into the wrong room at an adult party. Maybe it’s a shock at the start to get the reader’s attention but it continues through the collection. However, it is written in a manner that even if it’s not your type of thing you can’t look away or put down the book.
The writing style seems to be a mix of Whitman and William S Burroughs. There is a rhythm and flow the reader can get lost in while reading. This is balanced against a seemingly cut up style of word usage.
The time-sensitive woman moved without sentiment because after all a smile is nothing but a place that helicopters watch.
There are both overt and covert references to sex and sexual organs throughout the collection.
They met in the library stacks. The combination of graduate student and prostitute could not be underestimated.
A below-job is relevant in that it occurred, if for no other reason
The school for art, brushing upon its rich history of auto-vaginal insertion.
Poetry that is at least MA-17 but somehow does not seem offensive or something that might embarrass the reader while reading on a train commute to work. Well done in its own unique style and worthy of several reads.