The absolute antithesis – in publishing terms, although not in spirit – of the UC Press 750-page impeccably hardbound Ted Berrigan Collected Poems is a tall skinny chapbook in an edition of 108 copies from CA Conrad’s new Mooncalf Publications, a series of ten untitled works (or is it one work in ten stanzas?) called Ways to Use Lance by Brett Evans. Evans, as I understand it, was a
This book is dedicated to the inhabitants of the Noah’s Ark/Hotel Rwanda krewe from the American Can Company – Val, Jonathan, Greg, Kimberlee, Suzanne, Jem, Jordan, Christina, Cha-Cha, Grover, K-Doe, L’il Lu, Murphy, and Whisper – and all the strangers with kindness that helped us walk the water – especially Bill and Nancy for key toy boat hookup; Jose with the pig report; Richard and Robert, who rescued the three dogs; Sherry Doty for Houston magic; Cara, David and Daniel for deliciously needed dry Xanbar there; and for Zee, Monir, and Hernan for their total bravery. Also karmic arm extension to the two Mexican dudes in the boat without whom I’d be dead right now. And those with rescue intent on the e-waves, such as Frank Sherlock.
Additional shout-outs to Theresa,
Nastassia R.I.P.
As a bio note says at the rear of the book, Evans “is now semi-happily displaced / pilgrimated in sunny
Still there is more to a book of poems than simple relief that the guy made it out alive under circumstances where not everyone did. Happily, the real news here is the poem (or poems). Evans turns out to be a fine writer, here using a taut line, usually seven or eight syllables long, a long stanza (anywhere between 17 and 29 lines), and a vocabulary that is, as you might imagine from that acknowledgements page, tres street circa ought-five. No two of the ten stanzas here are really alike, tho terms & themes carry over – I do, I realize, read it as a single work – but here is one sample that I think carries some of the flavor of the larger project:
Light saber talks light
baguette – read to be
lost bread fresh out
the baggin. The Krewe of
Tilting at Windmills is watch
ing you, watching your every
lighthouse to
move. Snakes of old Havvaii
’R’ ready to be speared.
More likely, roll the holebook
to candy a fly. Spin cane 45’s
til your late show dignitaries
forgo the standing O and let
you have the train to rose
fungus. Methinks it is
the contested lane of
Sea
peg from necking flowers.
This sort of text is the perfect love child of Louis Zukofsky & Linton Kwesi Johnson, two poets for whom the relationship of English to exile & displacement is not merely coincidental. In fact, tho, this isn’t a Katrina Survivor text any more than it is a tome against the Iraq War or, for that matter, a love poem. Which is to say, all & none of the above. Rather, what happens here occurs word to word, even syllable to syllable, choosing, say, the voiced v in Hawai’i, rather than the scripted-but-"correct" w, a mark that echoes also the entire history of print itself. The poem is driven by sound, yet concerned most with sense, albeit not in any way Billy Collins would see it.
This text is just ten stanzas long, one to a page, easily read in a single sitting, tho if you’re anything like me you will find yourself reading each stanza two & three times before you move to the next page. Read aloud, they have a great feel in the mouth – just try that final sentence above & you’ll sense what I mean – the sensuality of sound being physical & not merely alliterative.
I have only one concern with this book, and it’s one I have with a lot of small press runs, which is that 108 copies is nowhere near enough. Hopefully, Evans will get a collection together soon enough for everyone to have access. As it is, you could write to CA Conrad c/o Mooncalf Press,
