Ana Silva’s haunting chapbook While Mercury Fish chilled and frightened me with its poignant destruction, and still, even amidst the harrowing despair in the aftermath of an ecological crisis where the “mercury fish” are seeping and the water and air are tinged with “disease or contagion,” Silva provides flashes of communal hope, shows us what she would have reached for in an emergency, from her Almay medium concealer to her Calvin Klein jeans, to her children—forever out of reach. This collection captivated me, as I turned quickly through the pages to find out what disaster had struck and whether the speaker and her precious things would emerge safely. In short, striking, vivid poems, Silva brings our worst fears to life, and reminds us what we humans can survive, together. She reminds of us the small things we will most remember, the nourishment shared in a hot meal, something sweet, and a bit of bread for the soul: “What we shared last night—the bowl of hot ramen, the almost-tasty apple, your half bag of M&Ms, our conversation about poetry.” I highly recommend this poignant reminder of what we still have to hold onto, even in the midst of our current chaos.—Jenn Givhan, Girl With Death Mask and Rosa’s Einstein The poems of While Mercury Fish are rich with imagery and awareness, navigating a sense dread yet eluding a tone of hopelessness. Ana Silva renders a post-apocalyptic landscape into a place of love, where a stolen conversation about poetry over a shared half-bag of M&Ms reminds us what life is about. This is a book to be savored, especially in times of despair. Silva’s voice is of courage and comfort. I will be reaching for these poems again and again.—Stacey Balkun, editor of Fiolet & Wing: An Anthology of Domestic Fabuist Poetry and author of Jackalope-Girl Learns to Speak
