'Paraphernalia' is a fine, capacious handbag/hold-all of a word. Practical as well as attractive, it can stretch to accommodate all kinds of contents, many of which Joanne Limburg pulls out and considers in Paraphernalia: telephones and tin-openers, vacuum cleaners and breast pumps, needles and drips, alarms and scanners. There are objects that help us and encumber us, that we lean and hide behind, that we love and treasure, or punish and blame.
Joanne Limburg's poems look at the ways in which our bodies and minds, too, can themselves be broken down into odds and ends, can be useful or useless clutter. She examines our different parts, our skin and hair, our faces, our brains and blood cells, our thoughts and our words.
"The wit is exhilarating."
Peter Lawson, Jewish Chronicle
"Limburg has a sharp, humorous diamond of a mind."
"Limburg's perception is fine, and her wit engagingÖ She is adept at lifting a poem into strangeness, tilting the ordinaryÖ She creates special worldsÖ crucial aspects of our lives are held up to the light and returned to us inventively, with humour and apparent ease. Joanne Limburg is a breath of new air."
Moniza Alvi, Poetry London