Avalanche
Troupe heaves a cold, smacking "rush of objects" down an American mountainside of dreams and injustices. A respected chronicler of the lives of James Baldwin and Miles Davis and the son of a prominent Negro league catcher, Troupe (Snake-Back Solos) is an innovator of form and tone who shifts quickly from a lofty, elegiac mode into burlesque or smoky, jazzed-down pop phraseology. He plays on history, "riffin' on in full of rain & pain/ spacin' on in on a sound/ like coltrane." But Troupe also registers history's price, as in repeated images of an old man-both perpetrator and victim-"holding his age tight as two opaque roses/ in cataracted eyes." Troupe is still at his best when he indulges in deep, obsessive curves into music: "caaa-rack// the assonance of sound breaking from ground/ breaking away from itself & found in the bounding syllables of snow/ moving now." He writes with unchecked expression, redundant and inclusive. If it were any more laden, Avalanche would be inchoate. Any less would be our loss.Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.