To read the 45 poems in the new collection by David Bottoms is to take a step backward into childhood. And then you come forward again to caring for a parent in a nursing home. You realize your memories don’t stay in the past but instead come with you, influencing, shaping, and directing. And you often don’t see it except in hindsight.
Otherworld, Underworld, Prayer Porch reminds you of that extended family that exists now only in memory and your submerged DNA. It’s about grandfathers waiting to catch the fox sneaking into the pasture at night, the aunt who made the famous biscuits with no recipe, fishing in the bass boat, and the mother who now sees you as a stranger. And remember the small gator the fisherman caught in 1960?
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.