The Luna Erratum (2021) makes me think that Maria Sledmere knows everything. Her poetry is full and genius in word choice. Her work encapsulates the personal, the political, and everything in between.
This debut collection tells stories of yearning and heartache, climate change, and the elusive Luna. Her worlds are viscerally illustrated, not simply by words, but with real experiences and earnest sensation. She writes in a space of her own, with the absolute ability to bend text to her will.
The story in this collection is told in five parts: ‘Lifestream,’ ‘Mineral Garden,’ ‘Swerve,’ ‘Solar Error,’ and A LUNACID.’ In each part, Maria showcases different styles of poetry, and the length of each text varies, as does presentation, making each work something valuable and unique. ‘Nude’ is a favourite – it appears early on and is introspective and nostalgic and achy, and ultimately, so effective.
The Luna Erratum is dreamy but real, lovely and sometimes terrible in the feelings of anguish it evokes.