 | Lord of the Butterflies is an impactful collection of poems both personal and political. Andrea Gibson excels at using ordinary language in extraordinary ways, making her poems both accessible and powerful. In “Ode to the Public Panic Attack,” the poet describes self-destructing on stage (Gibson was known for her live performances). She finds humor amidst the vulnerability and pain. In the poem a friend says: . . . That was as awkward as watching a goat give birth in the mall. She sometimes plays with rhyme as in these lines from “Boomerang Valentine”: . . . the truth of me, that beauty of a beast, chewing through the leash . . . |
Some favorite lines:
. . . made love like a hungry ghost digging its way out of a grave. –from “Tincture”
. . . I might have learned how to load my rocky smile into a slingshot whenever a dude suggested smiling was something I should do. You’re right, man. Here ya go—pew! —from “What Do You Think About This Weather?”
. . . Some people fall out of love.
I jump
to feel the safety
of the parachute. —from “Bad at Love”
. . . What’s your sign? My sign has historically been STOP
but since meeting you I’ve changed it
to MERGE. —from “Give Her”
. . . I think the hardest people in the world
to forgive are the people we once were,
the people we are trying desperately not to stir
into the recipe of who we are now.
. . . Truth knows everybody’s dark side
is daytime somewhere. —from “Daytime, Somewhere”
. . . made love like a hungry ghost digging its way out of a grave. –from “Tincture”
. . . I might have learned how to load my rocky smile into a slingshot whenever a dude suggested smiling was something I should do. You’re right, man. Here ya go—pew! —from “What Do You Think About This Weather?”
. . . Some people fall out of love.
I jump
to feel the safety
of the parachute. —from “Bad at Love”
. . . What’s your sign? My sign has historically been STOP
but since meeting you I’ve changed it
to MERGE. —from “Give Her”
. . . I think the hardest people in the world
to forgive are the people we once were,
the people we are trying desperately not to stir
into the recipe of who we are now.
. . . Truth knows everybody’s dark side
is daytime somewhere. —from “Daytime, Somewhere”
She has several pithy, short “definition” poems that pack a punch:
 | “Diagnosis” I suffer from unrequited self love. I love myself, but I don’t love myself back. |
“Resentment”
Loading the past into a cannon
to murder this year.
Loading the past into a cannon
to murder this year.
 | “Awestruck” To quit building bomb shelters to keep the universe from blowing your mind. |
She makes skillful use of line and stanza breaks for optimal emotional impact. Here’s a passage from “Until We Act” about war in Syria:
. . . My mother never had to teach me
that to breathe is to die, so I imagine
her hand covering my mouth
in the dark of our basement,
tasting her palm salted
with terror.
Another example of skillful line breaks from “Living Proof”:
. . . I imagine people
on their backs in lilac fields snorting the lines
the planes leave in the sky, waking
with honeymoons in their bloodstreams.
I also enjoyed the line breaks in “Baby Teeth in a Landfill”:
. . . When are the shooting stars gonna aim
for that orange guy’s head?
. . . Once I got proposed to
just hours after leaving the psych ward.
Where did the romance go?
. . . There is a world in which all the bad things
that happened didn’t really happen
and this
is not that world.
. . . My mother never had to teach me
that to breathe is to die, so I imagine
her hand covering my mouth
in the dark of our basement,
tasting her palm salted
with terror.
Another example of skillful line breaks from “Living Proof”:
. . . I imagine people
on their backs in lilac fields snorting the lines
the planes leave in the sky, waking
with honeymoons in their bloodstreams.
I also enjoyed the line breaks in “Baby Teeth in a Landfill”:
. . . When are the shooting stars gonna aim
for that orange guy’s head?
. . . Once I got proposed to
just hours after leaving the psych ward.
Where did the romance go?
. . . There is a world in which all the bad things
that happened didn’t really happen
and this
is not that world.
She’s at her most powerful when she lays bare the vulnerability of being human as in these excerpts:
 | “Dear Tinder,” . . . I hear almost every argument is a race for the victim spot. . . . Only I know how broke I got buying into the theory that my life is something that happens to me, that we are more holy the more hurt we are. |
“Hurt the Fly”
. . . A few years ago, a friend asked if you’d ever had a childhood. You said, No—but that wasn't right. What you haven’t had is an adulthood.
. . . Your therapist says . . . you blame yourself so you can believe the world is a safe place, or would be if you had done things differently.
. . . A few years ago, a friend asked if you’d ever had a childhood. You said, No—but that wasn't right. What you haven’t had is an adulthood.
. . . Your therapist says . . . you blame yourself so you can believe the world is a safe place, or would be if you had done things differently.
 | “America Reloading” . . . Of the twenty children murdered at Sandy Hook, not one of them needed an ambulance. That’s how dead they were. That’s how well the Second Amendment works. . . . After Columbine, parents were notified about their children in tiny conference rooms. One family said, We could hear the family before us screaming, and we knew we were next. |
Lyrical, searingly intense, snort-out-loud funny, and painfully poignant--Lord of the Butterflies creates an immersive experience. Highly recommended.
Read another fabulous poetry book by Andrea Gibson: You Better be Lightning
Read more great poetry: Not a Princess
Read more great poetry: Not a Princess
