So grateful to have a review for A mouthful of Space dust by Holly Spinnelli. Really exciting to have this book out in the world!

A Mouth Full of Space Dust Leaves Readers’ Heads Spinning with Stars By Holly Spinelli 

Gavin Turner’s A Mouth Full of Space Dust (2023) is a delightful, quirky collection of thought-provoking poems. Their strength lies in their accessibility and relatability. A striking aspect of this collection is its simultaneous spontaneity and cohesion; upon first glance, the poems do not appear to have a united theme. This may irk a more traditional reader, but for those who seek a bit of adventure, these poems lead you through a fascinating odyssey. The work as a whole has a curious arrangement, but the individual poems are crafted with distinct, recognizable structures. Each piece’s ability to stand on its own and later coalesce with a line or phrase from previous poems– as well as poems that appear later in the collection– gifts readers with sparks of familiarity and joyful surprise. 

The work opens with “A need to read”, a sweet rhyming poem that emphasizes the various valuable lessons and means for the reader to engage with the act of reading. The connectivity established in “A need to read” continues in “Arthur”, a playful piece with momentary glimpses of intensity regarding power dynamics and relationships among man and domesticated felines, and “The 2nd Parakeet”, a nod to parental instincts to protect children from overwhelming sadness and grief. Later, “Innuendo” finds itself balancing sexual attraction and wordplay– a surefire way to entice audiences. The poems, “The Writer”, “My Town”, and “I’m in love with my stalker” appear to move between introspection and observation. Turner’s wit and humor undulate throughout the collection as a whole, but for these three poems, the specific descriptions of place and one’s experiences therein walk the edge of his humor and a certain universal darkness. 

Between moments of humor and joy, Turner weaves somber, haunting elements. The literal spirit in “Being a better kind of ghost” echoes with a distant call from the unknown that plays with time and distance, especially when readers reach “Walk me through your winters”. The riddle here is that the call heard in “Being a better kind of ghost” possibly originates in the latter poem. Is this Turner’s way to keep us guessing? Perhaps, but once readers finish with each individual poem, the text pulls readers back for deeper exploration through second and third experiences. “Cocaine hippos” is the hidden gem that is worth the wait. The collection ends with another nod to literary engagement, though this time, Turner points to humanity as poetry itself– the perfect end for a text that inspires numerous beginnings.