In Trish’s poetry, images change fast. Collage. But one isn’t lost in them. There is always a rope back to a particular narrative. I was challenged by her voice and style because I fell like I find affinity with her project and vision and yet I do not yet trust my voice as she does hers.
In her poems, we are offered concrete images, concrete enough to suggest the backdrop of the poet’s declarations. The objects and referents are enough to suggest. To trigger stories in our mind. But because they aren’t explicitly told, we are allowed to interpret the poems. We are given shards and we play with them if only to find meaning.