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Deep Lane: Poems
“His best work yet . . . astute, contemplative, and deeply moving.” ― Washington Post Mark Doty’s poetry has long been celebrated for its risk and candor, an ability to find transcendent beauty even in the mundane and grievous, an unflinching eye that―as Philip Levine says―“looks away from nothing.” In the poems of Deep Lane the stakes are higher: there is more to lose than ever before, and there is more for us to gain. “Pure appetite,” he writes ironically early in the collection, “I wouldn’t know anything about that.” And the following poem answers: Down there the little star-nosed engine of desire at work all night, secretive: in the morning a new line running across the wet grass, near the surface, like a vein. Don’t you wish the road of excess led to the palace of wisdom, wouldn’t that be nice? Deep Lane is a book of descents: into the earth beneath the garden, into the dark substrata of a life. But these poems seek repair, finally, through the possibilities that sustain the speaker aboveground: gardens and animals, the pleasure of seeing, the world tuned by the word. Time and again, an image of immolation and sacrifice is undercut by the fierce fortitude of nature: nature that is not just a solace but a potent antidote and cure. Ranging from agony to rapture, from great depths to hard-won heights, these are poems of grace and nobility.
96 pages, Paperback
First published April 2, 2015
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About the author
Mark Doty
76 books337 followersMark Doty is a poet, essayist, and memoirist. He is the author of ten books of poetry, including Deep Lane and Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems, which won the National Book Award. He lives in New York, New York.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews
June 19, 2015
This collection is another Mark Doty gem. Unlike Atlantis and My Alexandria, Deep Lane does not focus on AIDS, loss, or death. This collection really focuses in on the natural world as a metaphor for existence (common for Doty) and on the idea of "desire", of wanting things. Every poem was smooth and powerful, generally less raw than some his earlier work; the poems of Deep Lane lose nothing in their introspection. The metaphors sing (as usual) with such examples as: "blue shroud on 16th like the robe of Venus rippling/over the entry of Pottery Barn", "some cloud breathed out//around us, as if we were a pair/of--could it be--soon-to-flower trees?", and "Put your boot to what's left/ of my softness, Sir: an anemone".
Every poem was good, but my favorite pieces were "Crystal"--which is about drugs (not my favorite topic, but told fabulously), "The King of Fire Island"-- my very favorite and the longest poem in the book, about a deer with just one hoof and a beautiful look at place, nature, and strength, "Little Mammoth", "Ars Poetica: 14th Street Gym", "The Lesson"--an exploration of the boundary, "This is Your Home Now"--finding himself in a barbershop, and most of the assorted poems titled "Deep Lane". This book is slow and reflective, an examination of identity through the lens of the natural world; Doty uses these poems to capture his life and his place in it. Each piece adds to the whole of the person and is complete in itself. As an example of the his lyrical strength, here is some of the beginning of "The King of Fire Island":
Every poem was good, but my favorite pieces were "Crystal"--which is about drugs (not my favorite topic, but told fabulously), "The King of Fire Island"-- my very favorite and the longest poem in the book, about a deer with just one hoof and a beautiful look at place, nature, and strength, "Little Mammoth", "Ars Poetica: 14th Street Gym", "The Lesson"--an exploration of the boundary, "This is Your Home Now"--finding himself in a barbershop, and most of the assorted poems titled "Deep Lane". This book is slow and reflective, an examination of identity through the lens of the natural world; Doty uses these poems to capture his life and his place in it. Each piece adds to the whole of the person and is complete in itself. As an example of the his lyrical strength, here is some of the beginning of "The King of Fire Island":
Hard by our fence in tea-dance light,
he seemed the very model of his kind:
a buck in velvet at the garden rim,
bronze lightly shagged, split thumbs
of antlers budding. That odd way deer hold
extra still, as though there were degrees
of stasis."
February 14, 2016
Why did I check this out from the campus library? Why was I dumb enough to think I wouldn't want to revisit these poems again and again? It took a little while for me to get into this collection, but after going back and reading the first few poems again, I remembered the way that Doty's work always challenges me to slow down and be more present in the moment. Here he wrestles with aging and mortality while celebrating beauty as only he can. I was especially struck by the poem late in the collection about Jackson Pollock, as well as the one about Ithaca. This book is my favorite of his since Sweet Machine, and I can't wait to go back to it as I have some of his earlier collections, over and over. Can we just name Doty poet laureate already? Please?
February 7, 2016
Incandescent. Mark Doty is a genius of compassion and detail and lyricism.
July 17, 2015
I seldom read a poetry book and love every poem - this was one of those exceptions. From the very first sequence of poems about Deep Lane (where the narrator walks his dog) to the very last poem about cherries Doty kept me interested and engaged.
For me these poems capture what it means to be human in an often bewildering world - it is the simplicity of life that gives us meaning: picking radishes; walking the dog; observing minutia like the soles of someone's shoes in the hospital waiting room; and getting locked out of the house. Doty acknowledges the ghosts that walk with us and celebrates the people that we are connected to. This is a collection that I will be re-reading again and again.
For me these poems capture what it means to be human in an often bewildering world - it is the simplicity of life that gives us meaning: picking radishes; walking the dog; observing minutia like the soles of someone's shoes in the hospital waiting room; and getting locked out of the house. Doty acknowledges the ghosts that walk with us and celebrates the people that we are connected to. This is a collection that I will be re-reading again and again.
April 7, 2020
Doty knows how to talk, phrase things, and ask questions.
Deep Lane stays, quite literally, rooted in the earth. We see him pull up wild horseradishes, discuss daffodils and haircuts. Hidden in the glimmering language of each poem, there's something passionate, uncompromising, alive. "The torque and fervor of the tree."
This may be my favorite collection by Mark Doty yet (School of the Arts is sitting on my bookshelf, and then, I'll be up to date).
Good Read.
Deep Lane stays, quite literally, rooted in the earth. We see him pull up wild horseradishes, discuss daffodils and haircuts. Hidden in the glimmering language of each poem, there's something passionate, uncompromising, alive. "The torque and fervor of the tree."
This may be my favorite collection by Mark Doty yet (School of the Arts is sitting on my bookshelf, and then, I'll be up to date).
Good Read.
May 10, 2022
A saucy little number and one much appreciated. MD has A Voice that is distinctly american and queer and elastic. Cadence control is everything here and the way Mark makes sense of that delights me
February 13, 2024
A moving, nourishing, surprising and tender collection that helped me to remember why I love poetry and why I keep reading and writing it! I was very moved by Doty's acknowledgement of life's brutality and pain, alongside his sense of appreciation for the many small and poignant things that make our world so rich. My first Doty but certainly not my last.
September 17, 2015
Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.
December 9, 2020
One of my favorite poems from this collection may be “The King of Fire Island.” Hard by our fence in tea-dance light| he seemed the very model of his kind: |a buck in velvet at the garden rim, | bronze lightly shagged, split thumbs… As a gay man myself, I’m thinking, Oh, boy, oh, boy. Literally, boyz, I’m thinking. But Doty’s first important image, one of a deer, is fraught with tempting language in regard to the other wildlife found on the island: “tea-dance,” “model,” “buck,” and “bronze.” These all could evoke a gay man’s thoughts of debauchery. Then the persona chastises himself for his own salaciousness: …We were objects of his regal, | mild regard. | Did I really say tea? | Measure the afternoon by a bar event? Even Doty’s use of a cliché—in the thick of buzzing bodies, intent | in quick talk, though their subtle eyes | won’t miss a trick—because it is also a pun, elevates his usage. Almost as if the deer and the persona are one, they are sharing the same environment but with more in common than one might think. This poem of 131 lines is one of my favorite kind of poems, one that both compresses and expands, the magic of creating a long story of depth, made short—kind of.
July 15, 2017
Doty has been writing beautiful poems, a reader might be tempted to feel a kind of "been there, done that" attitude about his poems. Deep Lane reminds us why we can't. These are often stunning, always surprising, and (most importantly) moving.
September 16, 2019
I did not find it very easy to understand.
March 30, 2016
I had the good fortune of taking a weeklong workshop with Mark Doty last fall. There, he read poems from this collection, and he also spoke about the making of one of them, how it failed to finalize until one day, suddenly.
These poems are achingly beautiful, precise, full of feeling—the sorts of feelings that we all feel: loss, despair, desire, joy, hope, wonder, vulnerability, regret. His focus is on the everyday, on home, his own life. In one, "This Your Home Now," he writes of going to the barber. There, he thinks of "layers of men, / arrayed in their no-longer-breathing ranks" and muses on how well he has lived in his grief for them; he ends:
. . . Could I be a little satisfied?
There's a man who loves me. Our dogs. Fifteen,
twenty more good years, if I'm a bit careful.
There's what I haven't written. It's sunny out,
though cold. . . .
Many of the poems are titled "Deep Lane," after the place he lives on Long Island. These poems often feature his golden retriever, Ned, or his garden or the local cemetery. They are deeply intimate and sensory, such that you almost forget you are reading a poem; rather, you are in the poem with Mark, marveling as he marvels, feeling as he feels, stopping time for that instant.
These poems are achingly beautiful, precise, full of feeling—the sorts of feelings that we all feel: loss, despair, desire, joy, hope, wonder, vulnerability, regret. His focus is on the everyday, on home, his own life. In one, "This Your Home Now," he writes of going to the barber. There, he thinks of "layers of men, / arrayed in their no-longer-breathing ranks" and muses on how well he has lived in his grief for them; he ends:
. . . Could I be a little satisfied?
There's a man who loves me. Our dogs. Fifteen,
twenty more good years, if I'm a bit careful.
There's what I haven't written. It's sunny out,
though cold. . . .
Many of the poems are titled "Deep Lane," after the place he lives on Long Island. These poems often feature his golden retriever, Ned, or his garden or the local cemetery. They are deeply intimate and sensory, such that you almost forget you are reading a poem; rather, you are in the poem with Mark, marveling as he marvels, feeling as he feels, stopping time for that instant.
February 13, 2016
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I'm not really much of a poetry fan to be honest, I prefer to bury myself completely in a book and not emerge for a few hours or days. Poetry doesn't often last long enough to have me gripped in the way a novel does - however, I've found myself reading a bit more recently.
Mark Doty's "Deep Lane" was one of these books, and I'm so pleased that I stumbled upon him. I'd never read any of his work before so I didn't have any frame of reference other than what I held in my hand.
Doty has a unique way of observing the world around him; his eye is so keen that I felt he was seeing things that I missed. His intimacy with nature was almost breathtaking, and I felt completely enveloped by his words - rare for me.
His descriptions, particularly those of the deer in "King of Fire Island" are beautiful. His personification of the deer was haunting and I felt like Doty really mourned his death.
Doty has a playful, almost teasing way with words and he seems very aware of it, drawing on it throughout the book.
Doty has created a work which is deep, inspiring, meaningful, and moving. I highly recommend "Deep Lane" and will be seeking out more of his work.
I'm not really much of a poetry fan to be honest, I prefer to bury myself completely in a book and not emerge for a few hours or days. Poetry doesn't often last long enough to have me gripped in the way a novel does - however, I've found myself reading a bit more recently.
Mark Doty's "Deep Lane" was one of these books, and I'm so pleased that I stumbled upon him. I'd never read any of his work before so I didn't have any frame of reference other than what I held in my hand.
Doty has a unique way of observing the world around him; his eye is so keen that I felt he was seeing things that I missed. His intimacy with nature was almost breathtaking, and I felt completely enveloped by his words - rare for me.
His descriptions, particularly those of the deer in "King of Fire Island" are beautiful. His personification of the deer was haunting and I felt like Doty really mourned his death.
Doty has a playful, almost teasing way with words and he seems very aware of it, drawing on it throughout the book.
Doty has created a work which is deep, inspiring, meaningful, and moving. I highly recommend "Deep Lane" and will be seeking out more of his work.
September 25, 2015
I adore Mark Doty's work and this collection does not disappoint. Gentle and introspective, with moments of both great mundanity and revelation. I particularly enjoyed "Deep Lane (June 23rd...)" (which depicts the joy of walking with dogs: I say, you run, darling, you tear up that hill), "Crystal" (with Then began the finding of the vein / no reason you'd understand the eros of this / unless you'd also... and Put your boot to what's left / of my softness, Sir), "King of Fire Island" (a tender portrait of a deer, with I tried to name him; he wanted no word / from me. More likely I should be subject / to this monarch of holly), "Apparition (I'm carrying...)", "Ars Poetica: 14th Street Gym" (with Beauty that does not disguise the wound), "Verge" (which suggests that feeling of both will-we-won't-we and did-we-know-then so well), and "Ithaca" (with Century of my birth, / go to sleep now).
May 15, 2015
I have struggled my way through the last couple collections. I no longer connect to Doty's wor(l)ds. Maybe I am aging incorrectly. I don't want the nature poems. I don't want description of deer. Give me something raw and wordy.
August 9, 2015
I've read Mark Doty's works before and can attempt to appreciate his keen observations inner workings of the world around him in relationship to it. His appreciation of nature and the upliftings of the spirit.
April 4, 2016
I adore Mark Doty's poetry, and the extraordinary way he puts words together to mirror life's details and abstract wonders.
"What grows in towards itself, how can it find company among its kind?" -- Mark Doty
"What grows in towards itself, how can it find company among its kind?" -- Mark Doty
April 25, 2015
Exactly.
May 28, 2015
Deep and gorgeous.
July 25, 2015
Lovely, fertile imagery - the poem about baby goats was a particular favourite.
September 21, 2015
Brought me to tears several times.
October 28, 2015
Still processing.
December 21, 2015
Not my cup of tea, but I do appreciate his craft. However, I LOVE the poem "Underworld".
January 23, 2017
"if you don't hold still, you can have joy after joy,
but you can't stay anywhere to love."
Earthy, slow, grounded. I enjoyed it.
but you can't stay anywhere to love."
Earthy, slow, grounded. I enjoyed it.
May 16, 2017
Some of my favorite bits and pieces:
on his ex:
"nearly every day he copies something he likes
simply to add more beauty to the world"
on picking radishes in the garden:
"...drives through silt possibility from nothing into wet
dirt-speckled presence:
the two impossible bundles of thunder we're holding."
on Jackson Pollock:
"he rode the huge engine of his attention toward silence"
on a one-armed man doing pull-ups:
"sleeve of--sparrows?--and morning glories
swelling with each upward pull"
on a boy in therapy/rehab after attempting suicide:
"The new and towering boy in outpatient
folds the lavish scaffold of himself
into a smallish chair as though..."
on riding a motorcycle:
"the kind man's dark leather back in front of you"
My favorite poems were Spent, Apparition (the one about his mom), Immanence, Underworld, and Deep Lane (trying to pick radishes). One of my new favorite writers.
on his ex:
"nearly every day he copies something he likes
simply to add more beauty to the world"
on picking radishes in the garden:
"...drives through silt possibility from nothing into wet
dirt-speckled presence:
the two impossible bundles of thunder we're holding."
on Jackson Pollock:
"he rode the huge engine of his attention toward silence"
on a one-armed man doing pull-ups:
"sleeve of--sparrows?--and morning glories
swelling with each upward pull"
on a boy in therapy/rehab after attempting suicide:
"The new and towering boy in outpatient
folds the lavish scaffold of himself
into a smallish chair as though..."
on riding a motorcycle:
"the kind man's dark leather back in front of you"
My favorite poems were Spent, Apparition (the one about his mom), Immanence, Underworld, and Deep Lane (trying to pick radishes). One of my new favorite writers.
September 15, 2020
[rating = C]
It is hard to find a poetry collection where you like every poem, and unfortunately this one didn't cut the mustard. There are some good poems here, and I always enjoy it when Doty mixes nature into his poems. At times his poems can be too far reaching, unable to actually grab hold of what it wants to communicate; perhaps some readers may comprehend what he is going on about, but there is just a barrier that I cannot unlock. I like that he talks about queerness in an everyday context; there is something empowering and wonderful about that. Unlike his Atlantis, this one didn't stray into the HIV/AIDS territory, instead it mainly concerned itself with the living, though there were occasional moments where he'd meet someone and say, Oh they've been dead for 10 years now, which became a sort of motif. Over all, I think it is a good enough collection, and I am not deterred from reading more of his work.
It is hard to find a poetry collection where you like every poem, and unfortunately this one didn't cut the mustard. There are some good poems here, and I always enjoy it when Doty mixes nature into his poems. At times his poems can be too far reaching, unable to actually grab hold of what it wants to communicate; perhaps some readers may comprehend what he is going on about, but there is just a barrier that I cannot unlock. I like that he talks about queerness in an everyday context; there is something empowering and wonderful about that. Unlike his Atlantis, this one didn't stray into the HIV/AIDS territory, instead it mainly concerned itself with the living, though there were occasional moments where he'd meet someone and say, Oh they've been dead for 10 years now, which became a sort of motif. Over all, I think it is a good enough collection, and I am not deterred from reading more of his work.
January 30, 2025
You could praise Mark Doty's 'Deep Lane' purely for its rich, earthy atmosphere - and yet that would be an injustice. The collection's true triumph is in the contrast between these moments of fixity and the rare yet distinct instances of restless, desperate motion, embracing the air as a pensive lover or a "hungry ghost", either way somehow damned to weightlessness in perpetuity. My favourite lines come from the final poem in the titular sequence: "... and you / in your welling up / out of sleep said, I have a lake in me, / and he looked at you closely, with a generous unflinching scrutiny, undeceived, loving, as clear a gaze as anyone had ever brought to you, and he said, You do."
June 18, 2017
I'm glad I borrowed and didn't buy this book. While a few gems of felt truths lie buried in this collection -- I'm thinking of the "Apparition" poems about his parents -- the writing here rings like hollow echoes of his earlier work. At what point does self-consciousness start to feel like shtick? This book holds the answer early on.
November 17, 2020
This volume felt much more open to me as a reader than the first one I read by him (My Alexandria). Both in style and subject, though I wonder that none of the little I've read about it talks about addiction - I don't see how several of these poems can be about anything but addiction (of all sorts).
February 23, 2018
A new book by Mark Doty. Beautiful poems that take the every day or one particular moment and muses on it until it is transformed into an exquisiteness.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews