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Same Old Story
Dawn Potter




Cavankerry
2014 • 116 pp. 6 x 9 1/4"
Poetry

$16.00 Paperback, 978-1-933880-40-2



Through verse and those mythical tales we can’t stop living, our private fears and hopes are brought to life

Even as she reminds us that writing “doesn’t solve anything,” Potter is driven to chronicle “the years murmur[ing] their old tune” in this compilation of sonnets, extended narratives, and shifting invented forms. Her rushing lyric voice binds together the personal, cultural, and imaginative histories that create the inevitable complications of human character.

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Reviews / Endorsements



“Variously delightful in their strategies and shapes, the poems of Same Old Story know that merely examining life cannot make it worthy…”—Robert Farnsworth

“ “Driving” is the presiding conceit that shapes Dawn Potter’s new collection, Same Old Story, and what an exhilarating ride this is! From the mythos of antiquity, to fairytales, to nineteenth-century novels, to relief when “the plow guy” shows up on Valentine’s Day, in a world where “newsmen / chant wind-chill rates and hockey stats,” Potter marries the quotidian and the sublime pretty much line by line. That pairing is dictional, syntactical, rhythmical, and often conceptional as well, but always, always, the scope is sweeping and the affect—in this reader’s experience—unparalleled. In her “Notes from a Traffic Jam,” the poet exclaims, “Oh, sometimes I fear I’ve lost the will to imagine / this comedy, this ugly beauty, this moving-picture world,” but Potter doesn’t have to imagine it. She sees it clearly, and how brilliantly she has shaped her craft to capture it and give it back to her readers illuminated and writ large. Potter’s sustained acts of synthesis and transformation are an astonishing achievement.
—Gray Jacobik

From the Book:

Blue

Once upon a time there is an hour,
rainless, starless. And then
a subtle hand unmasks a claw.
Bone speaks to bone. A cower
roughens a curve; famine gnaws
at tender flanks, grips bone, again,
again, tearing, shredding, once upon a time
sleep pretends to fight, once
an hour shivers into dead rain, dry stars;
into glory, first maculate chime
of defeat—bruise or savor, a barred
owl’s wail, the shrew that it hunts.



DAWN POTTER directs the Frost Place Conference on Poetry and Teaching held each summer at Robert Frost’s home in Franconia, New Hampshire. The author of three collections of poetry, she has twice been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Potter sings and plays the fiddle with an acoustic band and lives in Harmony, Maine.



Sat, 2 Dec 2017 12:09:57 -0500