“When she plants her fist
in the sloppy pocket of my chest,
I topple. When we lose people
say things like, ‘That’s pathetic,’
without say what, precisely.”
-from Women’s Rugby
When I first encountered Aimee Le’s work, I was floored. That pattern has continued ever since. Her work comes to you dressed as a human, all humble and vulnerable and whatnot, until you realize it’s a steed ready to gallop all over your emotions & ideas of language. What strikes me the most is Aimee’s frankness with words, everything is said plain as day, albeit beautiful and adorned, there is nothing hidden or disguised. We are at first taken in by the clarity of Aimee’s voice, swooned by it, and then Aimee starts giving it to us. Do you hear me honey? I have read and watched in amazement at the things I was hearing on stage, how bare the words came, how honestly Aimee offered them to the audience, moving all the BS out the way so we could actually talk about and consider the real world concerns of the poem. This work calls us to consider, calls us to action, calls up a visceral reaction from baring witness to such amazing truth. Aimee masterfully handles race, sexuality, desire, gender, and survival in a way that is laden with care, but allows those topics of have their teeth and nails. Aimee grants her poetry the permission to be soft, but also the permission to hurt, to fight, to show its music and bones and use them to defend, defend, defend. Folks, you needs to get into Aimee Le, child’s work will make you believe in something greater and in the greatness of yourself and the blood filled folks around you. Get into it and let Aimee’s work get into you.