
How do you deal with the metaphysical? That which is beyond your grasp? Your conception? Well, if you are Luis Correa-Díaz, you write poetry. If, like me, you do not have that kind of talent, you read his poetry.
Up from Georgia is a collection of 64 sestets which look innocent enough, until you read them; then get ready to have them move you.
Some poems are whimsical, even funny on the surface, like the opener, referring to the Georgia font, but with a twist at the end referencing a possible epitaph, like the surprise ending of a haiku.
What follows -and this is the trick- are poems about death and farewells, but lit with self-referential jesting, with the light from his favorite coffee shop in Athens (the Georgia one), AI, QRs, REM (also from Athens, the Georgia one), NASA, bagels, Chick-fil-A, or proto-cyborgs. But do not be fooled, those waters are deeper than they seem: they talk of Ercilla, and Thomas Merton, of Gregorio Marañón, and of course, Neruda.
It is in this dance between the mundane and the transcendental that Correa-Díaz flourishes, that he lets us into his world, into his moods, one line at a time.
This is the brilliance of Correa-Díaz, a 21st-century poet, crafting the juxtaposition of beautiful poetry, full of meaning and sentiment in a breakfast joint in Athens (the Georgia one).

























