The Leading Edge of Nothing
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In the bravest, saddest poetry you are likely to read, Vincent Bell writes first-hand on the brink of the nothingness of dementia.Poetry can be an especially cerebral form of expression, an act of playing mind games with language. Only here the game is deadly earnest, because the nothing in the title of this spare but vital collection is the prospect faced by the poet, writing from within the experience of dementia, on the edge of losing language, and mind, altogether. That makes this a very harrowing, and necessary, read. Necessary because, as Bell admits, "Denial is the loudest component / of the early stages of dementia." Instead of denial, he writes with painful honesty. "I've crawled endless miles / through words connectionless-- / begging sometimes even crying / for meaning // and finally when I have it / waking the next day / just to see water." Thankfully, here his words do connect, and connect us to his experience. This is the saddest, and bravest, poetry you may ever read.
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