The inhabitants of the bottom of the bay are discouraged. So much waste accumulates there. Not a day goes by without one of them getting stuck in a plastic object. Molly and Frédou, two lobsters, and their friend Céleste the crab decide to take action, especially as Molly is about to moult and must think about protecting her eggs. So, they return all the waste to where it came from. Then, in a sudden turn of events, the fishermen intervene too.

Jennifer Houle's debut collection, The Back Channels, reflects the effort to build a meaningful life in a rapidly changing culture, in a region afflicted, as many are, with outmigration and an economy of anxiety and hard choices. Here, the past is "almost all there is," becoming "our only source of light" as she takes us to the backwoods where a discouraged woman walks, the shore beyond the fairgrounds, "the tire swings, car lots and empty lodges ranged /in crude half-circles like small handfuls of thrown bones," and the parking lots where smokers gather to talk about layoffs or pay cuts. Her poems invite the reader to listen in on these moments and pause among these landscapes, never mistaking its often rural settings for places of retreat or escape. The largely Acadian culture depicted in these poems may still be influenced by the past, caught in its own reflected image, but it moves, as do the poems, to a steady, if moody, rhythm determined to find meaning and purpose in spite of difficulties, flux, and a seemingly pervasive cynicism. Reminiscent of Karen Solie's early work, Houle's brilliance as a poet is her mastery of language and keen sense of observation with which she draws the reader in. These poems come from a place of grappling, an attempt to find meaning, beauty, and connection in the day-to-day, without being confined by it.

The title of Jennifer Houle's second collection, Virga, refers to a cloud formation often seen on the horizon, when rain begins to fall but evaporates before reaching the ground, only to fall again when the time is right. Likewise, the poems gathered here, written over a period of roughly twenty years, between the ages of 20 and 40 - many revised with a slightly wiser eye- explore what it means to develop an identity while continuously regrouping, reformulating oneself, reacting to prevailing conditions, and retaining autonomy in a sea of "rhythmic lies and half-truths." Through the medium of poetry, Houle converses with her younger self, performing a kind of rescue job, bridging years through poetic reflection.Unapologetic, and shot through lore, Virga investigates the tensions, inner and outer, that work to shape identity. Sensual, driven, and pragmatic, the poems insist that we "fall to rise," and address the desires - romantic, erotic, familial, and socio-political - that transform us. Like rain held in abeyance, these poems were waiting for their time, and gathered together create a compelling, distinctly feminine and feminist meditation on maturing womanhood. Personal lyrics are set against the stories and mythologies of female characters who fell (or dove) from their stars, into unfamiliar worlds, including meditations on the Lost Pleaid, Dorothy after her sojourn in Oz, and the Greek goddesses Asteria and Astraea.By turns dark, and infused with longing and fruitful uncertainty, the poems persist in questioning the forces that shape who we are, and the stories, symbols, and ideas we turn to for guidance as we wilfully create ourselves.

Les habitants du fond de la baie sont découragés. Tant et tant de détritus s'y accumulent. Pas un jour ne passe sans que l'un d'eux se retrouve coincé dans un objet de plastique. Molly et Frédou, deux homards, et leur amie Céleste le crabe décident de passer à l'action, d'autant plus que Molly va bientôt muer et qu'elle doit songer à protéger ses oeufs. Ils retournent donc tous ces déchets là d'où ils viennent. Puis, coup de théâtre, les pêcheurs interviennent à leur tour.