Mangrove

Bill Hollands is a natural storyteller. His poems are performative in the best sense
of the word-rooted in high school and community theater stages, the tennis
court, and reimagining TV classics like The Love Boat, Gilligan's Island, and The
Mary Tyler Moore Show. In Mangrove, even his childhood Miami home becomes
a stage as he searches for it on Zillow. Memories about the less-than-fun parts of
childhood like the Presidential Fitness Test and desk graffiti about himself become
a tableau of humor and innovation. And who else can begin a love poem like this?
"I gave you crabs and you let us / pretend that it might have been / you who gave
them to me and that / was so lovely...". No one! The poetry curtains open and
there is a spotlight-inside it, Bill Hollands. -Denise Duhamel

In this delightful collection, Bill Hollands confirms he "can, after all, put on a
show." With humor, a conversational rhythm, and a careful eye for detail, he
explores how a boy who is told "you are not like the others" finds his own identity.
Via masks such as Ginger and Mary Ann, elementary musical performer, and
young tennis wannabe-sometimes tortured, always determined-he keeps
returning to and claiming "beauty, beauty beyond understanding." The Florida
and pop culture of his 1970's childhood provide a backdrop for discovering his
own Mangrove. While remembering mother, father, and brothers-along with
card tables, Aqua Velva, and The Love Boat-Hollands assures readers: "here's the
great thing about poetry: you can change the ending." -Ellen Bass

Bill Hollands' song is one of sitcoms, family, and childhood. And most of all,
apartness: "the ritual humiliation." And loss. Hollands shows us that memory is
unfinished, like one of his mother's jigsaw puzzles. And shows us, too, that you
can create your own family. -David Trinidad