Toronto ON: Composed as
“an ekphrasic translation of bpNichol’s ‘Allegories’ (from Love: A Book of Remembrances. Vancouver: Talonbooks, 1974)” is
Toronto poet and editor Stephen Cain’s Etc Phrases (Toronto ON: BookThug, 2013). There have been a small handful of
chapbooks released over the past decade or so (including one from above/ground press), but some time since Cain had a trade collection of poetry, back to his
third trade collection, American Standard/ Canada Dry (Toronto ON: Coach House Books, 2005), and his micro-fiction
collaboration with Jay MillAr, Double Helix (Toronto ON: The Mercury Press, 2006). Is Cain slowly and quietly
working his way up to something, or simply in small, self-contained bursts?
Etc
Phrase #16
Ebbing the ineffable.
The phonics of the palimpsest.
Expletive F
exclamation.
Floating or
floundering.
No horizon line.
B coming or being.
Thorny thrownnes.
E F Geworfenheit.
Still present despite
the presence.
Not waving but
sounding.
The
chapbook intrigues in part through the playful coherence of collisons, pushing
phrases against phrases to ascribe an accidental meaning. The thirty-two poem
sequence of Etc Phrases makes for a
wordy exercise of what jwcurry would refer to as “serious play,”
counterpointing other short self-contained units he’s produced as chapbooks
over the past few years. Is there a collection of collated units finally
forthcoming upon that horizon?
New Jersey: Until now,
Ben Fama is a name I’ve heard but never actually read, finally able to go
through the poems of his Odalisque (New
Jersey: Bloof Books, 2014). The seven poems that make up Odalisque are constructed as accumulations, nearly collage-works
that build their individual ways up into a coherent shape, despite the sequence
of seemingly-unrelated phrases he uses as building materials. His poems do seem
an intriguing blend of collage, random statement and narrative flow, in the
Frank O’Hara “I did this, I did that” kind of way, especially through his use
of pop culture references. The final poem in the collection, “girlwithcat2.jpg,”
even includes shades of what Montreal poet Jon Paul Fiorentino has been playing
with the past decade or so, blending pop culture sensibilities and humour with
a dark, even pessimistic bent.
FL
NEUR
Fashion makes me less
crazy
It should be looked at
Never discussed
It’s an honest joy
To be shocked by beauty
In the 21st
century
I was shocked when my
lover was caught stealing
From Dean & Deluca
I was thinking of a
line
By Robert Hass
The floor manager
stopped us
We simply went to a
different store
Poetry
A requiem for leisure,
pleasure, thought
I cannot take your high
school friend’s
Hoop earrings seriously
And every picture on my
phone is obscene
Seriously, look at it—
All these fucking
effetes
Boring travel stories
Details of somebody’s
dreams
Champagne condensating
On leather seats
All summer long
I wish I could afford a
room
At the Peninsula New
York
Suites with TVs above
soaking tubs
With city views
And all that sun on
Fifth Ave.
I live inside it too
I am at Uniqlo
Buying underwear
And after I paid
I stayed and shopped
again
A surprising second
erection
After you’ve just
finished
And you know it’s time
According
to Wikipedia, the term “odalisque”
refers to a “female slave or concubine in a Turkish harem, particularly the concubines in the household of the Ottoman sultan.” The title poem in the
collection plays off that meaning, exploring ways of seeing and comprehending, and
yet, the poem predominantly work through anything but, opening:
There’s a picture of
you on my phone
I look at when I’m
bored
It’s basically an
American Apparel ad
In a world I have
access to
I’m looking at it now
Or possibly through it
And listening to “Gymnopédie No. 3”
Sometimes I think it is
a perfect song
I wonder what you are
going to wear
To this cocktail event
At the Gershwin Hotel
We are going to tonight
Toronto ON: I’m very
taken with the musicality of Marianne Morris’ Alphabet Poems (Toronto ON: BookThug, 2014), third in the NEW BRITISH
POETS series edited by Stephen Collis and Amy De’Ath [see my review of the first two, here]. This is an intriguing series they’ve taken on, seemingly
produced in pairs (Andrea Brady’s Dompteuse
is forthcoming), and I would be very interested to hear the editors’ take on
the hows and whys of curating such a series. Of Morris’ Alphabet Poems, I’m taken by the rush of the line, and the flow of
the words like water, forceful and smooth and unrelenting. Alphabet Poems follows her first trade collection, The On All Said Things Moratorium [see my review of such here], which I would highly recommend. Born in Canada, raised
in London, England and currently residing (according to the bio at the back of
the chapbook) in Oakland, California, I can only hope that Morris manages to
make her way north to perhaps read, as her pieces, as strong as they are on the
page, give the impression that they are really meant to be heard to be felt, in
full force.
THEIR
TEETH
Something of darker
mettle, they said. They requested.
Something of darker
mettle. Them and their
Wants. Of organized
mettle. Fuck you! I said.
Poured frayed panties
from the broken neti pot into
The almost empty but
resealable bag. Her earth hands.
Bag like I am.
A month on the lips,
seventeen years in the hips
The holding-in sounds.
The slipping-in sounds.
The groans, loaming
archers, swoop low. I know
Them and a plastic
container of oiled nuts.
To stop biting
At my own lips
For eighty dollars and
a vial of my salt
Which I will replenish
with the fat of something dead
So I can eat. A row of
exes: x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
Morris’
“alphabet” is expansive, complex and richly textured. And it’s hard not to be
charmed by the table of contents, especially when you sound out the titles,
reading in order: “WON,” “TO,” “FREE,” “FOR,” “FIVE FLEE WITH SWORDS AND TWO
REMAIN BEHIND,” “SEX” and so on.
No comments:
Post a Comment