In the digital age, poetry has grown increasingly complex, as it often ignores the strict formatting and flowery language of the past, opting for experimentation and multimediality. The College of Liberal and Professional Studies at the University of Pennsylvania defines modern poetry as having “emphasis on strong imagery, free form, simple and direct expression, realism, inconsistent meter, and at times dark, controversial, or open-ended themes.” Perhaps no modern poetry collection reflects these characteristics quite like Danez Smith’s “Bluff.” Released last month, Smith’s poems explore their outrage with the dire state of America as well as their experience as a queer and non-binary black poet.

Smith’s raw and colloquial yet clever and compound language is refreshing, as they reflect on the aftermath of the George Floyd murder amidst the chaos of the COVID-19 pandemic and political extremism in their hometown, Minneapolis, Minnesota. Smith writes, “We loop downtown on foot, from corner to corner, until we end up on a street/ trapped by MPD in riot gear in our faces, the sheriff’s department to our backs. When was/ Covid? What infection did I fear last week? The cops are the sickness.”

The Minneapolis native has much to say in “Bluff,” as the paperback is 138 pages long; page 42 includes a QR code that directs readers to a Google drive with 27 pages worth of poems of “b-side” poems, as Smith calls them, that did not make it in the final draft. While the average poetry book has far fewer pages, the journey through “Bluff” is never a bore. Smith keeps readers engaged with their experimental format varying from odes and sonnets to shape and multimedia poetry that weaves images into the reader’s imagination. Smith invites readers to interact with his poems, using rhetorical questions and commands such as “Ask yourself” in the poem “Principles.”

“Bluff” is Smith’s fourth poetry collection preceded by the award winning “Don’t Call Us Death” that features their most well known poem “Dear White America,” “[Insert] Boy,” and, “Homie.” All of their poetry collections share common themes of systemic racism, queerness, pessimism, love, and relationships.

Smith has been writing poetry since age fourteen, but their career did not take off until after they graduated from the first wave urban arts program at University of Wisconsin-Madison in 2012. From there, Smith garnered their reputation as an outspoken and unapologetic advocate for social justice through slam poetry.

In a 2017 interview with Lauren K. Alleyne of The Fight and The Fiddle, Smith discards the stereotype of the “lonely poet” only writing for oneself, stating “I think of poems as gathering grounds.” Smith goes on to explain the importance of unity that influences their writing and their hope of gaining co-conspirators through their words. Smith says, “what poetry does at its best is offer human connection.”

At the heart of “Bluff” and all of Smith’s work is protest. They carry on the anger and resilience of past black protest poets they admire, such as Amiri Baraka, but with a modern edge and a consciousness of the current problems that plague the United States. One poem in the collection that perfectly captures this protest, and one of my favorites, is “Rondo.” “Rondo” tells the story of the neighborhood of Rondo, a predominantly African American community, that was tragically destroyed as a result of Interstate 94 construction. Smith introduces the story with a quote from a 1920’s African American newspaper on the warmth and culture of Rondo, and is followed by an article from the Gale Family Library on the effects that the construction of I-94 had on the close knit community. The next few pages that follow are now in Smith’s voice, opting to place their words above and beneath a road, meant to symbolize the newly constructed street that now divides Rondo.

“Bluff” can be purchased at Barnes and Noble in-store or on their website barnesandnoble.com, and on amazon.com.