“slight faith is what we need in these extraordinary
times and Risa Denenberg offers us this and more in her
personal how-to manual for survival: ‘train for comedy
and calamity,’ she urges. From Babylon to New York
City, these luminous poems travel via polished lines and
prescient language. Yet, the voyage is never easy. The poet
keeps vigil alongside the dying and the dead but these
poems exist in service to the living. It’s as if Denenberg
has split open her life and scraped out the interior fruit.
Judaism, Buddhism, yoga, and all night car rides—
the speaker scours each for answers. Across decades,
families, and the names of trees, we experience ‘this
double helix called love.’ This is a collection that I plan
to return to, to read again the music of ‘sozzle,’ ‘trundle,’
and ‘roil;’ to revel in the alchemy of ‘everyday clouds that
amaze.’ As a Jewish woman poet, I am especially excited
to welcome this book into the world.”
—Susan Rich, author of Cloud Pharmacy
“slight faith is not an easy read, but one infused with
intelligence, a questioning mind, a deep sadness that
offers to the reader a kind of solace, an invitation to join
hands with, together to appreciate the curves and stresses
of life. There are glimpses of peace too, a respite in the
meditative ‘Fifty Breaths,’ a prescription for tranquility
in ‘How to Be Sad’ (‘May you hear the stillness between
breakers’). My favorite poem, perhaps, is ‘Famous’—a
tour-de-force plummeting through a life, its long lines
reflecting its rant-like tone and sweep, its power grabbing
us, pulling us in. I admire the honesty and straightseeing-
ness of Denenberg’s journey, her courage to look
deeply into the ‘ordeal of living,’ to share boldly a world
in which, Job-like, we find a mirror of ourselves.”
—Laura Foley, author of Night Ringing
