![]() Granted, there is no denying the virtuosity of Patricia Smith. And yet, who hasn’t had their heart broken by a disappointing experimental album, been devastated by a team’s a post-championship year of losses? As my partner once braced himself for Pacquiao’s inevitable decline, it was with extreme caution that I broached Patricia Smith’s newest poetry collection, Shoulda Been Jimi Savannah. This, I admit, is not a healthy view of creativity, belying a belief in talent as a finite, fragile thing. Bound up in their success, you fear they may have given too much to their last project, that any unremarkable phrase could indicate an apex already achieved. There is something terrifying about watching the progression of an artist you love. ![]()
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