In conversation with collections like John Ashbery's Some Trees and Wallace Stevens's Harmonium, Punishment Bag is a daring poetry debut that carves its own unsettling territory.
Jake Fournier's Punishment Bag asserts that poetry ought to exceed its author's intelligence. At once caustic and tender, this daring debut spans from dense, refractory lyrics to lucid narratives. As ghosts materialize at the periphery of late-night dialogues and spiritual seekers slide into hedonic disaffection, ordinary objects—creamer cups and plush koalas—accrue bizarre, sacred resonance. The collection hopscotches from the American Southwest to the exurbs of Paris and culminates in a piercing, Eliotic prose poem created from a destabilizing selection of autobiographical notes. Tracing the growth of a poet's mind, Punishment Bag extends its readers an irresistible invitation to grow in turn, to delight in the tactile density of language, and, against a backdrop of ecocide and systemic injustice, to discover new ways to make meaning.