Poet Chris Banks is immersed in what is wondrous and strange about human connection, pop culture, and most importantly, the elusive search for understanding and hope in an accelerating century marked by socioeconomic disparity and climate change.
Banks writes direct, accessible poems with strong allusions and 100% certified “fresh” images so seasoned poetry fans and those not accustomed to the genre can both find something to enjoy. He reminds readers that everyone needs “a bushel of smiles” or “a first aid / kit of laughing gas” to poison our anxieties with joy, and he does not shy away from difficult topics like toxic masculinity or mental health struggles. “Beauty is not beauty / without the ugliness surrounding it,” Banks says.
In Bureau of Useless Splendour, Banks lets his imagination roam across the science of DNA sequencing, internet memes, space-time physics, Canadian nationalism, a lunar discussion between Canadian poet Gwendolyn MacEwen and American poet Frank Stanford, and even reimagined fortune cookie “fortunes” — as if to illustrate that tucked away among the allusions to pop culture and Shakespeare, poems about Johannes Gutenberg and the Martian mountain Olympus Mons, there exists a dusty old office where the poet sits, creating vivid, delightful pieces and mischievous “invoices” dedicated to the beauty and wonder of this world.
