Douskey's first hardcover collection of poetry was published by The University of Georgia Press, supported by a grant from The National Endowment for the Arts. The book takes its title from a poem within that first appeared in The New Yorker magazine. Concerning the death of his father, the poem is excerpted here:
tonight in morphine dreams he rows across the dark where he lowers his line and while the black lake licks the sides of his solitary boat an eight-pound rainbow trout slaps through the air glistening in moonlight silver hook flashing through its upper lip my father so far under he doesn't feel a thing The review from the publisher states "Douskey's poems are deeply considered and mature. Unlike many of his contemporaries, he possesses a finely honed with and he is not afraid to flash it with taste and intelligence. He takes chances in his poems, stretching for imagery that is almost bizarre, and yet he has the skill to bring these off in impressive ways. This first book of poems is a fascinating whole, a strong, engaging performance. |
Poems in this collection first appeared in the following: Abraxas, The Advocate, Chelsea, En Passant, For Neruda/For Chile, The Georgia Review, The Goddard Review, The Greenfield Review, Inland Boat, Kayak, Lazarus, Madrona, Mazagine, The New Yorker, The New York Quarterly, Phantasm, Poetry Now, Poets of the Desert Southwest, River Bottom Press, Rolling Stone, Southwest, The Sou'wester, Telephone, and Zahir.