In folkloric scenarios, “Islands of Words” imagines a collision of languages, and its dramatis personae—the Priestess, the Chief, the Father, the Mother—draw from the world of myth. … Collectively the poems form a narrative, and conflict—the engine of narrative—is introduced in the cycle’s opening couplet: “The day Father said the sea had another name / we all knew our world would never be the same.” What is at stake, the cycle slowly discloses, is language: “Each creature has its own speech / that demands fealty, else anger the gods.” But in Yuson’s world, peril is complicated. (A) lovely smiling mermaid calls to a little girl: “I say what you hear, in a tongue / that is of course not yours, and yet you understand.” The cycle’s final and most violent poem suggests that something’s lost, but something’s gained, in encounters with the unknown.

Poet Merlie Alunan said that poetry isn’t about words, poetry is about the silence after the explosion that the words lead to. “Islands of Words” explodes, and Yuson leaves the reader in its silence.
— Tim Tomlinson
Poet, Editor, Co-founder & President
New York Writers Workshop