geof huth, a book of poems so small I cannot taste them (2008)

A book of poems so small I cannot taste them is a book of tiny poems, a book of thoughts, a book of winter. It makes its points known through small clusters of words, words meant to accumulate like snowflakes into a covering of snow – the countryside, the city, your backyard reduced to their essentials, all irrelevant details excised, the earth simplified to whiteness, to a cold stare, to simple contemplation, a place within the word, the mind so wrapped around a thought that it disappears into that spot the farthest from movement, the cold coming in now, and you do not notice it. This book, being about winter, is published in Finland, a land renowned for its ability to accept snow and the pleasures thereof.