Life Studies/For the Union Dead, by Robert Lowell, Noonday Press, 1992.
Most of these poems were very well-written, with breath-taking tempos and cut-glass phrasing. I almost always appreciated the jarring but oddly appropriate word choice, and the intricacy of the phrasing. But, with very few exceptions, I felt like I was wallowing in teen angst as I read these. A few poems turned outward, as in Dropping South: Brazil, and For the Union Dead, but far, far too many turned inward, and reading those poems was quite draining.
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