Muscle Memory

By Linda Rogers; Ekstasis Editions; 102 pages; $19.95

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Victoria Poet Laureate Linda Rogers cares deeply about the treatment of children and how so many suffer intensely because of the stupidity and viciousness of adults. Rogers makes that abundantly clear in her latest collection of poetry, Muscle Memory. But her lyric poems deal unevenly with a wide range of topics, demonstrating that emotion does not always create a powerful, or even satisfying, poem.

The books is divided into three sections and the poems in each relate loosely to the section headings: "Memory One: Friendly Fire," "Memory Two: Bold Headlines," and "Memory Three: The Child City." Along with the concern for children is a strong belief in the power of mothers, whether human or other animal, most frequently a dog (which also allows Rogers to play on the word God -- one of the less successful techniques employed).

Several poems touch on the places of conflict, such as Baghdad and various African locations, and Rogers examines the damage done to the vulnerable, both in the past and now. Women tend to be stereotypical victims or life-givers (mothers) and lifesavers while men play a more destructive role.

For example, in "What Is Done," Rogers alludes to Robert Latimer killing his severely disabled daughter Tracy. Time is compared to rain: "Every day is a teaspoon of rain, he / says. His child is asleep and the rain / never stops."

Obviously the literal prison sentence will end, but the figurative punishment will continue, just like rain.

Even when children are being rescued, problems can ensue. In "Blurred Kids," a powerful commentary on celebrities and their apparent acquisition of children as status symbols, Rogers grimly notes: "You see them being hauled in and / out of limousines, moving through / airports with bodyguards, nearly flying / off balconies and sometimes out of / windows while their parents, blinded / by flashbulbs, smile for the paparazzi / like wild things playing frozen tag."

These children, like the ones in war-torn countries, are in stark contrast to Rogers' own grandchildren, who play happily in lush gardens in Victoria: In "It Is for Them," Rogers celebrates the beauty of Victoria (even while noting how we pollute the land and sea) and says, "My / grandchildren are spinning so quickly their feet / have left the ground. They believe in flight, in / celestial navigation."

These children are lucky -- their grandmother loves and protects them, unlike so many of the world's children who have no one to take care of them, only people who use and abuse them.

Familial relationships are the cornerstone of this collection. A few of the poems have to do with a child's view of parents. In "We Get to the End," the speaker wants to know more about her dying father, but so much remains unknown.

In "Kneading the Tender," the speaker notes that her mother never taught her that "bread rises much better when the / gluten is stretched, but she did share / her opera glasses when we went to / the ballet," and that experience has left the speaker with a lovely conflated image of bread dough and dancers' "derrières."

Rogers has an elastic imagination and immense concern for all life forms. Her poems don't always work although the goals are laudable. Some selections are merely disjointed prose. Perhaps Rogers should try the prose poem form.

And the book would be stronger overall if Rogers allowed her readers to draw conclusions rather than wrapping up her points so carefully. Poetry should leave room for speculation and further mind play --when Rogers constructs an intellectually open poem, readers can engage in the process. But too often the poems are closed boxes.

Nevertheless, the topics are valuable, and they may well prompt readers to try expressing their concerns in poetry or seek out other poets who explore these issues.

One final point: Rogers needs to be in firmer control of the punctuation, especially the apostrophe, which is grievously mishandled in this book. (The non-existent word its' even makes an appearance.) Poetry is too precious to have so many clunky errors.

Candace Fertile teaches English at Camosun College.