In these poems, John Hughes is keenly aware as he gleans the startled atmosphere where an earthy undercurrent is charged with yearning, and the horizon nudges and distracts. Here, time passes on clocks without hands, and even the goldfish "hang in ecstatic stasis." Heat, night, music, rain, and wind are all a surface tension through which he rummages on a sensory search for what can be reckoned and revealed, telling us along the way that these "solid forms have always longed for their release in the ashes of old wounds." His intrepid journey makes for a lovely and multifaceted collection.
-Laura Sobbott Ross, author of A Tiny Hunger (Yellow Jacket Press, 2011)
John Hughes' Music from a Farther Room embodies the use of imagery as allegory: the words and lines within the poems form a collection of experiences that suggest a deeper understanding of the emotional backbone of life. Simple scenes like a "sagging mattress" with a "rumpled chenille spread," lead into a more profound recognition of the tenuousness of our time alive. Bodies are as vulnerable as dreams, but no less worth celebrating.
In "Confession at St. Augustine," a beach becomes the sky, which becomes the grass in a grandparent's front yard. Other poems try to rationalize emotion: "Logical Love Poem" recalls the outlining so ubiquitous in elementary school, and, too, it reminds us of the desperation of attachment. In this collection, a flood of images pushes at the reader. At some point, one must accept that Hughes' poems aren't always linear, but nevertheless carry one to the realization of an emotional journey by the time the last line is read.
-Christine Klocek-Lim, editor of Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY and author of Dark Matter