Beauty by J. R. Solonche

Name: Beauty by J. R. Solonche
SKU: 9811
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Beauty is J.R. Solonche’s forty-sixth book of poetry, yet another welcome addition to a remarkable life’s work. All of his passions and preoccupations are on full display, singing, dancing, sighing, shouting, joking, laughing, complaining, exulting and lamenting their way across the universe of these pages.

As ever, there’s close observation of the natural world. Here’s a wild turkey with feathers of bronze and green “like old metal.” Here’s a dead opossum, just “another ephemeral landmark” by the side of the road. Here’s a woodpecker, “blue-collar worker” who “makes holes for a living.” Here are song sparrows, “little brown ideas that haven’t quite formed yet.”

So, too, are Solonche’s signature wit and humor here in abundance. In “Troy,” he gives his wife, no Helen but an avid gardener, a watering can. “No one hides inside it./ No one comes out in the middle of the night/ to burn down the house./ And all I need is a blow-job every so often in return.” In “Physical,” Solonche’s visit to his doctor ends with this exchange: “After all these years, I never know when/ you’re joking and when you mean it.”/ I grinned. I’ve been going to Charlie/ for 40 years. He still can’t read my mind.”

In a departure from earlier collections, for the first time since The Lost Notebook of Zhao Li (Dos Madres 2022), Solonche’s persona makes a cameo appearance. Here is the old Chinese poet reflecting on three hawks circling above him: “Three is the perfect/ number for the sky,” he says./ “But not for us,” say the three/ field mice by the road.

Kirkus Reviews sums up Beauty perfectly: “Solonche’s volume of poetry skillfully captures the quotidian and the profound… the stylish yet straightforward tone of the pieces makes difficult subjects feel universal. Solonche’s powers of observation and careful shifts between subjects and tones make the collection consistently engrossing… the works’ lucidity and humor make for a widely accessible collection.”

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Beauty, Solonche’s forty-sixth book of poetry, is another welcome addition to a remarkable life’s work. All of his passions and preoccupations are on full display – from the close observations of nature to the witty aphorisms and wistful memories of bygone youth — singing, dancing, sighing, shouting, joking, laughing, complaining, exulting and lamenting their way across the universe of these pages.

Category: Dos Madres Press Tag: J.R. Solonche

Description
Additional information

Description

Kind: Perfectbound
Pages: 124
Language: English
Date Published: July 10, 2026
ISBN 978-1-962847-58-2

Praise

“Solonche is productive and prolific, but that doesn’t water down his poetry… He can compress a philosophical treatise into three lines… His epigrammatic tidy poems are philosophic gems. Solonche sees humor and encapsulates it; he frames a thought in perfect verse… He’s playful and profound — the more he writes, the more he seems to know. Beneath the Solonche simplicity are significant social comments, and his goodwill reinforces the best in us.” —Grace Cavalieri, Washington Independent Review of Books

“Solonche, an accomplished poet, employs various forms in this compilation, including haiku, prose poem, and free verse. The poems often imaginatively enter into the natural or material world via anthropomorphic similes… Many works have an aphoristic quality that recall Zen koans, and they can be playfully amusing or even silly… A strong set of sympathetic but never sentimental observations.” —Kirkus Reviews

“These poem catch the reader off-guard in playful profundity. While always mindful of the tradition of poetry masquerading as direct statement (the likes of W.C. Williams, Robert Bly, Robert Creeley, and Charles Bukowski), J.R. Solonche nevertheless “makes it new,” through his masterful use of understatement, aphorism, word play, and anaphora—raising poem after insightful poem from the familiar and often overlooked “little things” of the poet’s day-to-day encounter with the world.” —Phillip Sterling

“J. R. Solonche can pack so much humor and linguistic playfulness into such tight bundles, it feels like 1,000 clowns issuing from a VW Bug. He can also fit a lot of darkness and mortality into them, which feels more like 1,000 clowns dressed like Marilyn Mason issuing from a VW Bug. Solonche can be crass the way only the truthful can be, mischievous as a child with his hands in the honey jar, or even aphoristic and proverbial like a modern day Martial. Though you never know which Solonche you’re going to encounter on the next page, he’s a great bunch of guys to get to know.” —Stephen Cramer, winner of the Louise Bogan Award and the National Poetry Series

Excerpt

ARGOS

He was the true hero of the story.
Not Odysseus. Not Penelope. And,
of course, totally unsung. He was
a good dog. Truly man’s best friend.
This man’s best friend, at least. Bred
for the hunt, known for his speed,
a proper, functional sort of canine.
But the master left for a war, a ten-
year war, and then a ten-year trip
home. Dear God, it was a long time,
especially for a dog. So Argos waited,
the sort of thing dogs do. They are
very good at waiting. Much better than
we are. He grew very old, neglected,
flea-ridden, lying on a pile of manure
by the gate, not exactly the glorious
retirement he deserved after all those
years of loyalty. Then the master comes
back, disguised as a beggar. The dog
sees him, recognizes him, wags his tail
faintly because he has no strength left.
The master can’t even stop to pet him,
or say “Good boy, Argos,” because it
would ruin the disguise and the plot
he had planned. He just wipes away
a quiet tear. And then, the dog dies.
Just like that. His purpose fulfilled.
It’s a powerful moment in literature,
a symbol of timeless fidelity and loss.
The Greeks loved their dogs, so surely
Homer could have Odysseus bury Argos
with all the honors befitting one who
was so selfless for so long. One line
would have been all he needed. Just one.

Author

Nominated for the Eric Hoffer Book Award, twice for the National Book Award and three times for the Pulitzer Prize, J.R. Solonche is the author of more than 50 books of poetry and coauthor of another. He lives in the Hudson Valley, New York.