From the window, light. From the light a pattern. From patterns, the shape of the world. A thought in a shape. A different kind of world. As if in a mirror, the way that you are not yourself in your reflection.Each of Veglahn’s prose poems occur in this voice, but each unfolds in its own way.
I’m too harried with work to write a thorough review of Sara Veglahn’s extraordinary chapbook Closed Histories, but I want to take a moment to recommend it. To the extent that comparisons are useful in describing a distinctive new voice, I would say that her work has similarities to writers as diverse as Karen Volkman, Yves Bonnefoy, Samuel Beckett, Henri Michaux, and the Gertrude Stein of Tender Buttons. Needless to say, I hope, these associations are subjective, and Ms. Veglahn herself might disavow them all! So I should let her speak for herself, if briefly: