To say that Devin Johnston is a master of the sound of poems is to narrow the conversation too much too soon, but it’s useful nonetheless as a starting point for understanding the distinguished power of this poetry. Here’s the beginning of “Tempers,” from Far-Fetched (2015):
Hot days, violent storms,
high clouds, cold rain.
*
Sheets and curtains cast
a white-diamond gloom.
Are you asleep?
Wind heaves
against the glass
and slow breathing
fills the room.
*
Soft pillows, soft
Blankets, soft sheets:
Her kiss? Sweet,
and hard enough
to crack your teeth.