What better way to pen a dreamy and summer-y queer coming-of-age chapbook than using scent’s strong connection to memory? Baillie’s debut chapbook title, like his poems, is successful in both brevity and coaxing out the odours of summer (see: ambrosia, perennials, chlorinated, bug spray, bergamot, pine, hydrangeas, fruit) This chapbook offers a sort of mental scratch-and-sniff experience in reverie. It’s easy to envision these poems coalescing while sunbathing on absent-minded summer days.
Citronella’s first poem ‘Truthsayer’ ends with No more metaphors tonight/ I come to tell you/ nothing/ but the truth. This promise is reflected throughout Baillie’s delicate language, at times confessional and achingly honest. There is an effortless meandering in these poems as though they were plucked out of warm air. They focus and unfocus to hone in and zoom out on queer experience with a paralyzing quality, at times moving into fight-or-flight as in ‘Panic Attack’ Running towards/ the fence, the road, the noise/ not once was I in danger, or a longing stillness in ‘Leaving the House of Light’: But in the lake I stay standing/ forsaking the flowers, waiting/ for the swans to come home.
One of the most masterful poems in Citronella and a personal favourite is ‘Blowjob Bildungsroman:
The story of the boys on the dock / one peels
off his socks / and edges into the water / now
on my back / his shoes press into mine on the
mat
And ending:
a wish: to become / a man on my own feet /
a wish: to become / a man without filling my
mouth / with someone / else’s words.
Ballie wields suggestive language expertly in this poem — not coy nor blatant. The assonance in
dock and socks led me to expect ‘c*ck,’ as the title would imply, but it veers back to edges. Indeed,
the entire poem edges the reader, drawing into confessional moments now I do things I/cannot
speak of and then holding them at arm’s length the dark wood followed me for years. This
intimate and clipped pace reads like a series of utterings in close proximity, to the point I could
envision the poet muttering them into my ear. The poem loosens its waistband near the end,
inviting breathing room and time for reflection on identity, self-worth and independence.
Part of Citronella’s success is in how it gently intertwines smell, memory, summer and queer love, in a hot, languid haze, punctuated by deeply intimate musings.
We know that the sense of smell is closely linked with memory. Part of Citronella’s success is in how it gently intertwines smell, memory, summer and queer love, in a hot, languid haze, punctuated by deeply intimate musings. How we can be so unlike ourselves/lying in the heat, sucking/fruit pits or how we might ultimately resurface in a different body.
Originally from Worcester, Massachusetts, Loch Baillie is a queer poet and writer living on the
south shore of Quebec City. In 2023, he was mentored by ReLit Award-winning poet Simina
Banu as part of the Quebec Writers’ Federation mentorship program. Loch’s writing has
appeared in Font, Maclean’s, Maybe Magazine, Society Pages, and yolk literary. When he is not
writing, Loch can be found teaching English, reading a book, or submerged in a body of water.
Publisher: Anstruther Press (2024)
Language: English
ISBN: 978-1-998774-22-7
Nicholas Selig is a poet from Nova Scotia. His work has been featured by Contemporary Verse 2 and the League of Canadian Poets. He was awarded the Nova Writes Rita Joe Poetry prize in 2023. He is the current Editor-in-Chief for The Miramichi Reader.