Our Bearings

"McGlennen rows her 'birch bark now aluminum canoe' through urban landscapes. She claims poems of place, identity, family narratives, geographies, and myth. Her words rise like buildings in the Twin Cities like 'a handful of straws in an apron pocket.' There is striking imagery in the cityscapes as well as the natural imagery of tree line, pine needle, river, bear tracks, bonfire. There are forebodings of plastic factories and the detritus of civilization. She remembers state schools and the Owatanna orphanage that some of her family endured. In the Minnesota Historical Society, she finds letters written by her great-great-grandparents to the state for the return of their children. McGlennen is fond of the city buildings linked by skyways for the cold weather. Her poems make these same connections - the past and the contemporary urban world stand side by side in her work. Her voice gives bearings to a unique collection." - Diane Glancy, author of The Book of Bearings

"Wielding the tools of a poetic cartographer, McGlennen has created an ecology of stories - historic, immediate, and timeless - that call the land currently known as Minnesota home. Focusing attention on footprints above the cityscape, unearthed letters, and boat parts jutting out of lake water, these poems show us we are not the first (or the last) to walk the paths around us." — Shauna Osborn, author of Arachnid Verve

"In McGlennen's Our Bearings, we are given a beautifully layered vision of a city and family from the point of view of an Anishinaabe woman who lives in and sees another Minneapolis. It is a Minneapolis that is burdened by an ugly history for her family - but it is also one that lives on as a place, real and imagined, that is deeply home." - Erika T. Wurth, author of Buckskin Cocaine

"McGlennen’s writing is subtle, a flexible instrument that moves to the rhythms of breath and footfall, adapting to the wide variety of moods and topics. It can embody outrage, or quiet exploration, or the patterns of speech, “carrying each one’s story like a mouthful of diamonds.”" - Pulsar Poetry Webzine