This body of work by Danez is their most powerful, yet. The theme of Bluff hugs you tight and won’t let go

" I offer my scratched golds to the blueprint of possible.
dear reader whenever you are reading this is the future to me, which means tomorrow is still coming, which means today still lives, which means there is still time for beautiful, urgent change, which means there is still time to make more alive which means there is still poetry."


Can a book of poetry save you? Can it solve the problems of the world? Smith says no. The beginning of his new book of poetry faces the futility of making change head-on. Poetry cannot stop this from happening. Worse, it gets used by the very people who are making things terrible. He has to swallow pride from those who would harm him in a different context. The first half of this book is filled with despair and frustration. Midway through the poems, he changes focus. It is at that point he shows his true power as a poet. The poems are filled with hope, promise, and resilience. One would wonder if this is what the title of the book refers to.

Favorite Passages:

We wanted to stop being killed and they thanked me for my beauty

happy to vote Happy to be able to protest the killing We couldn't end, happy for healthcare That killed us slower, happy the gays could marry In the country where trans women vanished Like snow in warm winters Happy our wars were only of the mind only elsewhere.

…we made them late for work, traffic such a gentle revenge for how they clog heaven, a small inconvenience in return for the harvesting of cousins…

Capitalism is the worst bird, able to make a tool out of its destruction.

I hate it here. It’s June so it’s perfect. They do it every pride month, take stonewall and hide the brick. They’re doing it again. Money making uprising a strategy, a mask. Money making your dead face a shield, an invitation to spend your grief. Money figuring out how to stay safe. Money playing the money game. Money making you forget it’s about money. This all started over twenty bucks.

Sometimes we laugh when we are in danger. Every man I knew who was evil had someone who loved him who called him good.

I offer my scratched golds to the blueprint of possible.
dear reader whenever you are reading this is the future to me, which means tomorrow is still coming, which means today still lives, which means there is still time for beautiful, urgent change, which means there is still time to make more alive which means there is still poetry.

Somewhere my children can write poems about being without protest, their songs full of stars.

At this point, I'm convinced there isn't a single thing Danez could write that I wouldn't love. Emotional, thought provoking, beautifully written poetry. 10/10, no notes.

Loved this collection, especially the multimedia additions. A great modern, honest poetry read that I would recommend to anyone living in our current times.

WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: August 28, 2024

Last week Bluff by Denez Smith was published. It is fitting indeed that Graywolf, based in Minneapolis, has shepherded this collection, which focuses on the city as a place of protest after the murder of George Floyd. In the sprawling, eight-page poem “Minneapolis, Saint Paul,” Smith brings us the unbearable news. Though their poetry is powerful/brilliant, Smith doesn’t always try to make Bluff pretty—“it doesn’t feel like a time to write when all my muses are begging for their lives.” Smith’s honest about the limitations of what poetry can do and, like all poets, seems to even chastise themselves for writing it—“i’m a/ coward, a slave to slavery, it makes me a/ salary.” Or consider this chilling line—“they clapped at my eulogies. they said encore, encore.”
There is so much to admire in this searing manifesto of a book. Bluff, even while acknowledging the shortcomings of art, simultaneously affirms it. Here’s “anti poetica”:
https://poets.org/poem/anti-poetica
Congratulations, Denez!

5 stars

Anyone familiar with Danez Smith's work will come to this collection with extraordinarily high expectations. They'll be exceeded.

Smith is one of the greatest poets of our time, and it is a privilege to read their work. It's a great joy to have a new collection - thematically challenging as it is - to absorb and learn and grow from.

I cannot wait to share these with students.

Oh, so good! This is one of those reads that calls you out, draws attention, and doesn’t hold back. I found myself highlighting so many sections of this collection of poems. It felt like line after line there was something else—another lesson, another message that I had to hold onto. This book isn’t just social commentary; it’s about injustice, racism, international conflict, and resilience. There are moments that hit you with brute force and others that hold you close. This is the second book of Smith’s that I’ve read, and once again, I’m leaving it feeling satisfied.

Huge thanks to Graywolf Press and Netgalley for the opportunity to experience such a captivating collection.

What is the role of art, of poetry? Is it to express oneself? To inspire? To comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable? To spark action and meaningful change?

Bluff, the latest poetry collection from Danez Smith, tackles this question, as well as themes around blackness, queerness, the pandemic, George Floyd protest, and Minnesota gentrification. Smith has gone viral for poems, especially "Dinosaurs in the Hood", and quite a few poems deal with the tension of writing poetry that a lot of people read but living in a world where not much changes despite their art.

A fantastic poem that grapples with that tension is "less hope" (which you can preview here: https://poets.org/poem/less-hope):

apologies. i was part of the joy
industrial complex: told them their bodies were
miracles & they ate it up, sold someday,
made money off soon & now, snuck an ode into the elegy,
forced the dead to smile & juke,
implied America, said destroy, but offered nary step nor tool.
paid taxes knowing where the funds go.


and of the audiences who consume art born out of pain and passion, but solely for aesthetics:

they clapped at my eulogies. they said encore, encore.
we wanted to stop being killed & they thanked me for beauty
&, pitifully, i loved them. i thanked them.
i took the awards & cashed the checks.


Overall, this is a fantastic new collection from Danez Smith. My standout poems:

• on knowledge
• less hope
• Last Black American Poem
• Queen Performing "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going" in a Blue Dress, Saloon Bar, Minneapolis, 07/2022
• Minneapolis, Saint Paul
• principles
•My Beautiful End of the World
• more hope

But I'm sure I'll be finding new gems with each reread.

Danez Smith’s Bluff is a blistering examination of America's relentless brutality and the fragile hope for transformation. This poetry collection, brimming with intense lyricism and vivid imagery, delves into the pervasive violence and systemic racism in the United States while envisioning a radically transformed future. Smith's evocative and introspective voice offers a profound exploration of the personal and collective struggles defining contemporary America.

From the outset, Smith’s anger and despair are palpable. They write, “What you call country, we call plague,” encapsulating the deep disillusionment felt by many. The poems navigate the emotional landscape of living in a nation that inflicts violence on its own people, particularly Black Americans. Smith confronts the harsh realities of police brutality and anti-Black racism with unflinching honesty. In the poignant “Minneapolis, Saint Paul,” Smith reckons with the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests, delivering a narrative that resonates with urgency.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the eARC!

Full Rating: 4.75 stars rounded up

Danez Smith’s Bluff is a blistering exploration of America’s unrelenting brutality and the flickering flame of hope for transformation. This poetry collection, filled with intense lyricality and vivid imagery, grapples with the pervasive violence and systemic racism in the United States while holding onto the vision of a radically changed future. Smith's evocative and introspective voice offers a powerful examination of the personal and collective struggles that define the current American landscape.

From the opening pages, Smith’s anger and despair are palpable. They write, “What you call country, we call plague,” capturing the deep disillusionment felt by many. The poems navigate the emotional terrain of living in a country that inflicts violence on its own people, particularly Black Americans. Smith doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of police brutality and anti-Black racism, instead confronting these issues head-on with unflinching honesty. In my favorite poem “Minneapolis, Saint Paul,” Smith reckons with the murder of George Floyd and the ensuing protests, delivering a poignant and heart-wrenching narrative that reverberates with urgency.

One of the most striking aspects of Bluff is Smith's ability to blend the personal with the political. They weave their own experiences and emotions into the larger context of American violence and complicity, creating a tapestry of pain and resistance. The poems in this collection are a testament to the power of words to document pain and inspire change, even when the act of writing itself feels futile.

Smith’s language is both beautiful and brutal, rich with metaphor, alliteration, and rhythm. Their words dance off the page, creating a musical quality that enhances the emotional impact of the poems. The use of repetition underscores the violence and betrayal that permeate the poet’s relationship with their country. Smith’s lyrical intensity invites readers to fully immerse themselves in the emotional landscape of the collection.

Despite the pervasive themes of pain and injustice, Smith’s work is not devoid of hope. There is a recurring tension between despair and the possibility of a better future. In one of the most hopeful moments, Smith declares, “The police state is finite and destructible / the world where suffering is no requirement or ignorable is not a dream but a next stop.” This vision of a world without systemic oppression serves as a rallying cry for readers, reminding us that change is not only possible but necessary.

Among the standout poems, “less hope” and “I-35 W North // Downtown Exits” also deserve mention. These pieces further explore the collection’s themes of resistance and resilience, highlighting the poet’s refusal to succumb to despair. Smith’s call for “justice the verb not justice the dream” emphasizes the need for tangible, immediate action to address the injustices they so poignantly depict.

While not every poem in Bluff resonated with me, the majority left a profound impact. Smith’s ability to articulate the complexities of pain, anger, and hope in such a visceral and lyrical manner is nothing short of extraordinary. Bluff is a vital collection that challenges readers to confront the harsh realities of American society while daring to imagine a future of radical change and justice. Smith’s voice is a crucial one in contemporary poetry, and I eagerly anticipate their future works.

📖 Recommended For: Readers invested in social justice and racial equity, those who appreciate intensely lyrical and evocative poetry, anyone exploring themes of systemic oppression and collective resilience, fans of Claudia Rankine and Jericho Brown.

🔑 Key Themes: Resistance and Identity, Anti-Black Racism and Police Violence, Personal and Collective Trauma, Need for Radical Change, Hope amidst Despair.

Thank you to Graywolf Press via Netgalley for providing me with this ARC. This is the third collection of poems I’ve read by Danez Smith and they do not disappoint! This collection is raw and powerful, and I found myself lost in the pages for the entire afternoon. I will always recommend Danez Smith to my friends and family, and I can’t wait to pick this up once it’s released!

A powerful poetry collection that explores themes of Blackness, queerness, and the freedom to create art amidst a global pandemic and national protests for justice. Danez Smith has quickly become one of my favorite contemporary poets to date and this newest work of theirs does not disappoint. From groundbreaking poetic structures to hungry verse to this STUNNING cover, Bluff is a collection that you do not want to fuck with. Some standouts from Bluff include "1955," "Minneapolis, Saint Paul," "poem," and "principles," but I truly devoured each and every one of these works and would recommend this collection to anyone and everyone reeling from the violence of our capitalist system.

Danez Smith at his most hopeful, Bluff, looks to address the present “glitch in the system” that keeps us momentarily down by showing us what it takes to build a new world. The future is thoroughly contemplated by looking at the past and seeing just how much time is crucial and of an essence. In their poems we are spell bound to listen, to study “the difficulty of being” and to hunger for much more with love and “justice the verb not justice the dream.” The time to act is now for “there is still time / for beautiful, urgent change / which means there is still time / to make more alive / which means there is still / poetry.” 🫶🏽

Danez is one of the brightest stars in contemporary poetry and this collection was incredible. I had to read this slowly just to make sure it was taking it all in. I love a collection that pushes me to really look at the world around me and Danez Smith has continuously pushed readers to do this! Cannot wait to recommend this to customers!

Thanks to NetGalley and Graywolf Press for the ARC!

“there is no poem greater than feeding someone.”

So opens Danez Smith’s "Bluff," and while the line first seems to signal a bright-eyed, open-palmed collection, it quickly becomes clear that these poems are reckoning with their own futility. We’re approaching the midpoint of the 2020s, and this book feels like a shuddering retrospective as much as a fatigued look forward. It feels like one of the first poetry collections to understand the shape of the decade.

In Smith’s previous collections, I often felt that the poems were on their tiptoes, moving playfully even when broaching heavy subjects. The posture feels the same here, but the purpose has changed—that lightfootedness suggests the speaker physically straining for perspective. Almost every one of these poems is characterized by unexpectedly jagged edges—a razor blade in the candy bowl. With each successive piece, however, it becomes clear that any residual sweetness from prior books is medicinal. These poems are brutal, but they are incredible.

For example, “Minneapolis, Saint Paul” is a sprawling, immersive reflection on the weeks following George Floyd’s murder, and it’s the kind of poem that leaves a pit in your stomach and forcibly stops you at the end of each page. Readers know the history; Smith refuses to reduce it to history. This is also an incredible piece in that it retains its urgency while reinforcing it with the wisdom of hindsight. Throughout the entire collection, the poet’s concern for Black lives is deeply rooted in personhood, which sidesteps the trap of treating people as artistic props. This is a book that is politically powerful because it is so personal.

Elsewhere, though, this approach slips a bit. For example, “poem” is built around “Free Palestine” as a simple refrain, but it lacks the specificity with which Smith addresses Black lives in America—as real, individual people. After such personalized care throughout most of the collection, to read a poem about Palestine without Palestinians in it feels dismissive of their severe reality, lacking the context it needs to feel like more than a hollow, noncommittal gesture. Moreover, the apparent detachment feels incongruous in a collection that wrestles so much with the way art can distance us from real needs.

Unexpectedly, it also feels like the book begins to spiral out of control at this point, almost collapsing in on itself as political subjects begin to compound into shapelessness. This could be a critique, but I don’t think so— it aligns with how "Bluff" begins with a suggestion that poetry has its limitations. Even within the confines of a poetry collection, there are subjects that are too harsh for the form. This catalyzing failure eventually escalates into the glorious “soon.” In this penultimate poem, the speaker sounds as if they have run themselves ragged, gasping out the fevered conclusions of every poem that preceded. It feels prophetic, as if the poet is saying every fragile thought for the final time.