Anthony Salandy 42 London Chastain

I too could use those groundhog teeth. There is much in this present world I‘d love to bite

through: red MAGA hats, pseudo Confederate flags, Supreme Court justices who perjured

themselves in their Senate confirmation hearings. But I also enjoy seeing groundhogs, their

distinctive waddle, the way their clawed paws hold food as they munch.

Throughout the entire collection, Worthington references element of nature but especially

birds. Not only does she have entire poems about birds, but birds flit in and out of the collection. In

“Mapmaker,” she mentions how jaybirds build their nests. In “The Girl Singer,” we hear how hard

it was for her to “fetch [her] voice for chirpier songs,” and “Oh the cuckoo, she never hollers coo-

coo.” In Barn Dance (Chorus), Worthington says, ”Don’t call us bluebird, songbird, nightingale.”

For those of us who have spent any time in Appalachia, her references to birds ring true.

Through country music, family history, legend, and praise for the natural world,

Worthington weaves feminist values in with Appalachian values. This is a tricky combination

because these two entities are often at odds. She evokes emotions without being maudlin, without

telling her reader what they should feel. The poet’s lyrical style, her occasional use of

colloquialisms, her balance of serious subjects with light-heartedness create a collection which

calls for multiple readings. Each time I dive in, I find something different, some new way in which

Worthington speaks to me.