The house is still standing
is peopled with charlatans, gingerbread men, children, and savants — the thousands and the particular. Adrienne Bartlett builds this nimble first collection with a supple craft. The poems deke and swerve, from the wry to the theatrical to the intimate.
Whether riffing on the secret identities of public intellectuals and pop icons or penning elegiac verse, Barrett's voice is strong, anchored, inviting. Although she takes her readers through both "substance / and its downfall," in the end, the structure is sound, she is holding up.