I READ

i received in yesterday's post tom beckett's newest book Dipstick(Diptych) [marsh hawk press; 2014].  let me tell you how lovely it is in our digital culture to receive a physical package by post!  a made thing, the real thing, wrapped up and taped with handwritten names and addresses.  i tore open the parcel and opened the book at a random page and started reading.

beckett's book is divided into two sections, each a long poem, 'overpainted thresholds' and 'I forgot'.  the author explains that most of the contents of the poems were published on his blog l'amour fou.  i'm all for digital publishing but it is better to have these texts between the covers of a book.  these texts are tombeckettian at their finest.  they are acute metaphysical constructs of our quotidian world as contemplated by a clown with a massively sized IQ.

by clown i mean an artist of the first rank who works from failure only to succeed thru that time-honored art of having a pie thrown at his face.  the poet's frenetic yet lucid texts move into territories of strangeness and utter delight.

i'll not stretch the clown/circus metaphor but i think you get my drift.  these pieces are written out of a fear and despair that manages to stay sane.  humor is a stabilizing device.  for without the ability to laugh we are fucked.

take these pieces from the second poem, 'I forgot', as examples of poetry of the first rank.

           Once I forgot to give a shit about something I should have given a shit about.
           Actually, that happens quite often.

* * *

          One morning, halfway to work, the unbidden question: Had I closed the garage
          door?  Turned around, headed back home.  Passed my house.  Forgot to see
          if I'd closed the garage door.  Had to go back again.

you might recognize yourself in these texts.  that's what art of the first intensity will do, allow us to refresh and see the world anew with that you you in it.

this is a wonderful book.  i had to put it down last night [i started reading it standing in the kitchen] because of an appointment i had right after work.  i read the book in its entirety today.  at work.  i had to stifle my laughter as my coworkers might've thought that i'd gone loony laughing to myself, again.  i'd been feeling a bit blue lately but reading these poems by tom beckett i regained my happiness.