Jim Doss
S. Thomas Summers,
Death settled well,
Shadows Ink Publications, ISBN 978-1-932447-76-7, 37 pages, 2006, $6.95.
In his first chapbook, Death settled well,
S. Thomas Summers demonstrates his belief in tight, concise writing, the
clear image, and ample use of metaphor. Hardly a word in the
volume seems superfluous or out of place. This is not poetry
based, as Rimbaud puts it, on a "systematic derangement of the senses,"
or even the "disordered and chaotic confusion of the Bible" of Miguel
Hernandez. It is poetry that is humble and unassuming, yet
accomplished, as if it were written in secret by the next door neighbor
out of a quiet, well-ordered life.
The subject matter of these poems ranges from naps to misplaced
buzzards, baseball games to frogs caught by the lawnmower blades,
pastoral scenes to deli dumpsters, fishing to searching for a lost dog,
eating pears to drinking wine. Scenes abound that the typical
literate suburbanite can relate to, and as the title and cover picture
indicate death and ghosts appear as an undercurrent:
...A volume
of Poe lies open
on my desk near a portly
candle excavated
by the flame that last
night led me through
Montresor's catacomb's --
so musty and cold. Even
the bacon sizzling
in the kitchen
can't silence the ghosts
knocking on the pipes as you
draw your bath.
And in the title poem, which I quote in its entirety:
Death settled well
on the possum sprawled
near the road's edge.
Its mouth -- gaped. Lips
smeared red -- clown
lips. The heft of death
bloats its belly -- fat
clown. I prop it against
a tree like a teddy
bear against a bed
pillow. Lungs hiss,
empty of air. Eyes
coddle sights only
the dead can see: night
tainting day -- ink
in a pool of clear
water -- my own
ghost leaning
against a stop sign,
patiently waiting for
breath to expire.
The poems that are most effective work on multiple levels, like the passages quoted above:
past and future commingle, memory and the present, life and death.
They transcend mere description, and the preciseness of Summers'
language distills the poetic effect to the point every word has a purpose,
enhances the overall impact.
When Summers takes risks, lets his
imagination run, while maintaining control over the language, he can
produce some striking images such as in the poem Eight-Years-Old,
which recounts a memorable visit to Yankee stadium with his father, and ends with
the lines:
I want to crawl into daddy's
lap, taste the pretzel soaking
in his beer, close the wrinkles
growing dark under his eyes.
Or when writing of pears:
... I'll bite
one, leave it on the counter,
a dented bell, so you'll think of me.
Or in the longest poem in the book, Intimations on Mortality by Linus
van Pelt:
I'll take Snoopy's body,
wrap it in my blanket, lay
the still bundle in the earth.
Thumb sucking will never soothe that ache.
The few weak poems in the book fail to rise beyond mere description, and are fenced
in by the strict discipline of language. The future
challenge in Summers' writing is to consistently transcend such
limitations, take risks, and like in his best poems offer his readers
insight, wisdom, and mystery.
Overall, Death settled well is a book worth reading, and Summers
is a serious, sincere, and talented artist who is able to turn the
events of his day-to-day life into poetry.
© Jim Doss
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