BOOK REVIEWSaffect of anxiety is allowed to work in theforeground even as a kind of surreal Zenlikewisdom or search for knowledge functionsas the primary motor of the poetry.<strong>The</strong> Zen element is unusual though—akind of CNN Zen: “in central Jersey / aguy watching his | couch float.”It’s unusual to find this much fun in suchpointed, shrewd, uncompromisingly beautifulpoetic tangles operating at this level offragmentation and still retaining this levelof engagement and intimacy. <strong>The</strong>re is noneof the pseudo-self-abnegating refusal ofengagement which afflicts some of Davies’generation—the older gen-X/younger babyboomer avant-garde poets who startedpublishing in the early ‘90s.<strong>The</strong>re are self-conscious references toLanguage poetry (Ron Silliman), NYSchool (Frank O’Hara), and BlackMountain (Ed Dorn), but it would be amistake to identify these as indicating asimple ironized mix of techniques fromthese poetries. What they indicate is theacceptance and acknowledgment of certaincross-sections of these differentapproaches spread over the surface ofDavies’ work like butter and jam overseven-grain toast.Flourishes of black humor, paranoia andscience fiction, as well as the gleeful butnegatively charged play that they invite,occur in odd, micro-fictional pockets pepperedthroughout the book. Let’s call thisconstructive escapism, otherwise known inpoetry as flights of fancy, a device that canoften be accompanied by sentimentality.<strong>The</strong>re’s certainly no sentimentality to befound here, though the element of sentimenthas a crucial role. <strong>The</strong> attitudes, thoughts,and judgments implied here are fueled bythe poetic consciousness (one could almostsay persona) of a subject who is constantlyentwined in the problems of his society andeconomy. <strong>The</strong> results are often the blackcomedy of the depicted mind, which is asocial critique in itself: “steel yourself—you’ve got Satan’s work to do.”Much of this work is broken up intosequenced units or clumps. Three longserial poems are interlaced through thebook with only the dividing markers toidentify them: “‘Floater,’” “Remnants ofWilma,” “One-eyed Seller of Garlic.” <strong>The</strong>reis also the marvelous, long, unbroken centerpiecepoem, “Lateral Argument.” Muchof the book is punky and rough, but herethe flow becomes continuous, with exquisitelywell-balanced proportions of detailand scale, notable for its craftsmanship,depth, and avoidance of waste: “...And,much later, flung by elders / into fieryabyss, keeping quiet about the deleted /status of my virginity, hoping for the sakeof everyone / that it would rain soon // orthe delicious frogs would return.”This is not impossibly remote, esoteric,unimpeachable avant-garde art; it is accessible,engaging, esoteric, unimpeachableavant-garde art. Which means it could verywell point directly to the poetry of thefuture. Perhaps it already has. And though“avant” poetry this may be, it’s hard toimagine even the most ardently closemindedpoetic neo-conservatives not atleast enjoying this work with a kind ofbemused curiosity—that’s how much roomthere is here for the reader. If there is astumbling block, it may come from the factthat there may be more actual poetry in <strong>The</strong>Golden Age of Paraphernalia than some readerswill be able to handle.Drew Gardner’s books include Sugar Pill(Krupskaya) and Petroleum Hat (Roof). Anew collection of poems is forthcoming fromCombo Books.ROBERTO TEJADAMIRRORS FOR GOLDKRUPSKAYA / 2006Review by CHRISTINE LARK FOXYou have to be brave and ready to openRoberto Tejada’s Mirrors for Gold. You musthave a stomach for “severed fingers,” “variablesof the body,” devouring fires, “turbidfootprints,” and evaporating bodies. Youmust have “sufficient appetite” for births,geography, and erections, “a world in abstractdisorder.” Your desire must be great andhungry for language, the living dead, hashish,ice, and fetish. You must be willing to behaunted not only by the figures and landscapescontained within this book but also byTejada’s skillful juxtaposition of images, atonce striking and vivid, and by the openendedmutability of his lines. You walkthrough his world as a voyeur, a traveler ofmirrors, witnessing your own reflection in themasses of flesh, simultaneously aroused anddisturbed at the same time. Tejada’s work isan invitation, a window into another world,unabashedly erotic, and succinct.CHAIN LINKSRefuge / RefugeeEmily Abendroth,Bryan Finoki,Amze Emmons,<strong>The</strong> Documentary <strong>Project</strong>Jena Osman, editorspdbooks.org24 february/march 2009
Mirrors for Gold is about desire and thedistances traveled between things. It is abook of ghosts, rhythm, “cadences becoming,”and stillnesses undressing. It is abook of stories, the brilliance of bodiestouching, and bodies resisting their ownfrailties.This is a work about the body: human bodies;mutated bodies; a city body; bodies thatmake up voluptuous landscapes. Landscapeswhere horror and the erotic intermingle. It isa book that puts on display the historicity ofthese bodies within the succor of flesh meldinginto flesh, sidewalks, and sometimes,ritual, orgasmic crucifixions. <strong>The</strong>y occupyplaces that are worn and frayed at the edges.<strong>The</strong>re are thresholds “In which anger andbleeding are eroticized” (38). <strong>The</strong>re aresilences and slips of paper. Flesh. Blood andcorpse. Appetites.<strong>The</strong> “haunting human detritus” are objectsthat have lost themselves in the stupor ofcities, sex, fringe, and simulacra. This is apoetry of interiors and of forbidden spaces:“We assembled to regard each other’s erectionsin the steam bath / without touching”(37) or “You dreamt your mother, quote /” (28).Mirrors for Gold produces a type of restlessnessin the reader. With end lines that leaveone hanging with longing and poems openendedwith possibility, one wonders if therewill ever be a way out or a way around one’sown mortality and loneliness even withinthe physicality of “crepuscular desire.”Tejada elucidates this sure fate with lines like“while the water of bodies / in the earthevaporated” or “as though in fact self weredetermined below the surface where loomedthe terrifying vision of a world devoid ofthem, the others” (39).Tejada also illuminates language rife withits own frailties and complexities: “wefucked until / at last of / increasingly /more obdurate / matter as though two /languages were / scarcely enough” (43) and“her screams another language all together”(58) or “the speechless power of poetryexposed to air / as opposed to water, relinquished/ listener between the line eachbreath / to detonate the eldritch” (65).Mirrors for Gold is an offering, kindling to itsown hot ignitions. Tejada weaves the nakednessof debilitated landscapes, bodies, language,and our own reflected desires andfears into a sensually rich, edible work.Christine Lark Fox has recently returned from NewMexico where she became reacquainted with awe.She has a deep devotion to both love and magic.micah ballardparish krewesbootstrap productions / 2008Review by Greg FuchsIt is impossible to read Micah Ballard’s ParishKrewes without Hurricane Katrina imposingits harrowing aura, replete with tragic imagesof deluged New Orleanians, abandoned bymuddled civic leaders and left to effectivelydie by drowning or deprivation.Ballard’s poems are clearly located inLouisiana, though they often travel to farawaylocales like the Queens MidtownTunnel or the Tollund and Grauballe bogsof Denmark. <strong>The</strong> title Parish Krewes succinctlysignifies the unique, almost non-American, culture of Louisiana. It's a statewhere its counties are known as parishesand the carnival organizations that makeMardi Gras the biggest free party on earthare known as krewes, an antebellum embellishmentof the word crew that has lodgeditself into the local vernacular. ThomDonovon eloquently described, in his exegesisof Brett Evans’ and Frank Sherlock’sincendiary Ready to Eat Individual, thatHurricane Katrina has ripped time a newera, A.K., After Katrina (<strong>The</strong> <strong>Poetry</strong> <strong>Project</strong>Newsletter #217). As the horrors of the Warto End All Wars defined a generation ofavant-garde artists who indelibly influenced20th-Century art and writing, so have thehorrible truths revealed in the ebb ofHurricane Katrina and its attendant flood.Scores of artists in every medium—littleknownpoets to installation artists to provocativerappers to flamboyant pop stars toserious filmmakers to soulful trumpeters—BOOK REVIEWSsee rangers for hoursSUBSCRIBE1 Year — $17 / 2 Years — $30www.fenceportal.orgfebruary/march 2009 25