Poetry review: Breakfast with the Scavengers by Ben Rhys Palmer

Luke Blake

Breakfast with the Scavengers invites readers to pull up a chair at a table where the menu is surreal, the guests are improbable, and the conversations are profoundly human. The eccentric dream-like world feels strangely familiar despite the surrealist nature of the poems. Palmer constructs miniature worlds populated with an array of odd characters from philosophical hyenas to ancient fish gods and a yeti that possesses impeccable table manners. 

Palmer is confident as he plays with shape and form, demonstrating respect for the poetic tradition but straying when the poem demands it, allowing each piece ample space to breathe. These poems grip the reader by their opening words, establish trust by the end of the first stanza, and leave the reader craving more, reluctant to leave the unique world the poet has constructed.

This collection analyses the strange, yet intrinsic, entanglement of human existence and the natural world. In a witty, surreal, and playful way, Palmer blurs these boundaries, often imbuing the wild with domestic civility. In the poem ‘Yeti’, for example, we encounter an anthropomorphised creature that is concerned with its table manners. In it the yeti, who is suffering from loneliness, rescues a human and while they are unable to understand eachother, they form an odd bond in their time together. Here, the relaxed qualities of the wild become entangled with the pressures of human existence, but the outside world looms, threatening to upend their companionship. 

‘Fish Gods’ reminds us that, despite our best efforts, we do not hold dominion over nature, we merely partake in it, and much like any other animal we are forced to follow its schedule. Here, we see power change hands as Palmer imagines divine fish beings assuming a worldly authority. Finding goldfish bowls, they “smash them with their tails”, highlighting a core theme in this work: that the natural world is not something that can be confined and made pretty. None of this is done purely for whimsy: Palmer utilises his characters – a diverse crew of animals, cryptids, gods and even robots – to reflect human emotion and experience, allowing the reader a unique opportunity to analyse the loneliness, despair, resilience, and joy that humans face from a distance.

‘First Date’ uses surreal and violent imagery to demonstrate the messy nature of human intimacy. It seems to suggest that true connection often happens when we are at our most vulnerable. The act of running together despite losing pieces of themselves and finding joy in it implies that sharing moments, even painful ones, with another person can act as a glue. Palmer subverts the beauty and perfection of the love story and highlights the ugliness of intimacy.

What truly elevates this collection is its accessibility. While the pieces themselves hold so much complexity, they remain easy to understand, allowing a novice and a poet to enjoy them equally. All in all, this is a fresh and distinctive collection that reminds us of the magic poetry can bring to the table. It’s definitely going to be a book I find myself returning to on those odd nights where the world feels too uncomfortable or apathetic. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day; in this case, the nutritional value for the soul is immense. Pull up a chair and eat up, readers.

Ben Rhys Palmer’s Breakfast with the Scavengers is published by Parthian and is available from all good bookshops.