Small Crimes

Sacramento’s Ann Menebroker, author of more than 20 poetry collections, becomes more masterful of the language with each book she releases; Small Crimes, her latest chapbook, is no exception. Whether she’s watching a pond as it “floats its ducks and geese” in “Warming” or comparing the idea of ingesting an overly large grape to “the way truth feels / when you suddenly / swallow it whole” in “Chicken Salad With Grapes,” the poet makes each line count (in the spirit of her “meat poet” counterparts). Without sacrificing the honesty and humor she’s known for, Menebroker loosens her cynical tongue (just a bit) to let the world speak its joyful piece. She writes simply and beautifully, as in “A Buddha Sits in a Straw Chair”: “The Buddha hears bird songs, / He can’t get up to cheer, so he claps.”