The end of the chains

Finishing off The Poetry Chains of Dominic Luxford, something happened time and again. I would have a poem read, turn the page and find more poem. For a lot of the poems in which this happened it's a big problem since each was stronger in my eyes before the page was turned.

Poetry is about brevity. There can be long poems, but as I wrote in the previous entry on this collection of poetry, long poems run the risk of overcooking the idea or the feeling that they're getting at. Epic poems are possible, still, I think, but even they vary their ideas, characters, and viewpoints enough to keep the material fresh - even for thousands of lines.

It's possible that each poem that presented this sort of false end was planned. It's not outside the power of the poet to make decisions about how a poem appears on the page. But each time I discovered what I thought to be the poem's end was false, what came later was just an explanation of the emotion or idea that I had already gleaned from what of the poem had come before. In other words, these poems are examples of their poets nattering on a little too long.

A professor in my undergrad once said that when you've written a poem and feel that it's finished you should cut the last two (or three or four) lines so that instead of resolution, the reader's left with loose threads. Not because good poetry is vague or somehow hard to read by nature, but because good poetry shouldn't need to explain things with elaboration; word choice, word placement, sentence structure, and/or enjambment should be used instead.

That said, C.D. Wright's pieces are what I look for in poetry. There's music in her lines, and reading the two poems she has in the penultimate chain offers just enough to grasp what she's saying. Or, at the least, to feel like you grasp it. Nonetheless, I have to say that Linda Tomol Pennisi's "Doll Repair Shop" is still the best piece of the entire collection.

A chain of clay before a chain of gold

Disappointingly, the poetry chain from issue 22 of McSweeney's that starts with Michael Ondaatje is quite lackluster. Some of those within it are good poems, but most just lay the poetry on far too thickly.

Instead of kneading an idea and letting it bake up, nearly all the poets in this chain treat poetry like a person with a mouth of sweet teeth treats syrup: it's laid on every idea to the point where that idea's no longer recognizable.

Kay Ryan, on the other hand has exemplary poems in this collection. They're punchy and rhythmical.

Sarah Lindsay also has two good poems in this collection, Though "Cheese Penguin" is particularly brilliant. Its steady pace is the perfect vehicle for its bizarre story. A story that wouldn't be out of place on a They Might Be Giants album.

Poetry window shopping

McSweeney's The Poetry Chains of Dominc Luxford: Ten Poets Pick Ten More And So On continues to be a rewarding read.

Not because every poem's a gem, but because for all of the great poems in a chain there is often an amazing link in a series of chains. From chains four to seven this standout poem is Linda Tomil Pennisi's "Doll Repair Shop."

A prose poem, "Doll Repair Shop" draws its strength from the surreal connections made between dolls wounds and various things and actions. Pennisi's placing the things and acts in brackets and prefacing each with "Think:" amplifies the power of these connections. Why? Because it doesn't just present them, but tthe imperative makes you think whatever follows the colon.

Even on repeated readings "Doll Repair Shop"'s effect hasn't lessened.

With another four links to go, "Doll Repair Shop" has a good chance of being my favourite in the collection (A. Van Jordan's comic book-inspired poem "The Atom Discovers String Theory DC Comics, June - July 1964, #13 "Weapon Watches of Chronos" being a close second).