Dyson Russell’s Fists in the Eye that Blinks on a Pin is a collection of poetry that feels both raw and surreal, like wandering through a dream where images refuse to sit still. The book moves between moments of tenderness and moments of violence, never giving the reader a chance to feel completely safe. Themes of memory, loss, and fractured identity recur throughout, tied together by vivid and sometimes startling metaphors. It’s the kind of collection where one poem can feel like a quiet confession and the next like a scream across a darkened room.

I found myself both unsettled and deeply moved. Russell writes with a kind of reckless honesty that doesn’t apologize for being strange or uncomfortable. Sometimes the words tripped me up, and I had to pause and reread, but I didn’t mind. The language has teeth, and that’s part of its pull. What I admired most was the way the poems manage to be experimental without drifting into nonsense. Even in their most chaotic moments, they circle back to something recognizable and relatable, like grief that feels both personal and universal.

The repetition of despair, loss, and fractured imagery can weigh heavily after a while. Still, I can’t deny that the intensity is part of what makes this book what it is. Russell doesn’t water anything down, and that kind of boldness is rare. It felt like stepping into someone else’s storm and just staying there until the clouds passed.

I would recommend this book to readers who crave poetry that doesn’t play it safe. If you like writing that feels visceral, experimental, and emotionally unfiltered, this collection will stay with you long after you put it down. It’s not for someone looking for light verse or easy comfort, but if you want to wrestle with language and feel something real, Fists in the Eye that Blinks on a Pin is worth your time.

Pages: 110 | ISBN : 1763820602