In the dark dark woods poem skin#
Grassman “ His smell still there, always, sticks thick to the grain like disease armadillos spray” Of Proxies and Moonshadow first of all genius title of a poem “ The way a stab wound smiles when the skin around it shifts, how nineteen of those wounds sing like a choir when the girl bleeds herself across the forest’s floor.” P.V. All light will wane from your eyes,…” Disparation “ No more shuffle of slipper across wood, no smell of onions sweating in a skillet” His spirit will slip past your teeth into the core. Wendigo ” When you speak his name a second time, do not grin. “ White moths hover in spare light and snakes coil around mushrooms growing at the base of this tree” Gougou (Gulf of Saint Lawrence) “ She pulls scales from her hips, frees them to float in the water like manta rays” Burn, Hollywood, Burn “ He snips out one side of the box for a picture window, lines the inside edges with gold satin for drapes, but he can’t find an image of a fiery field anywhere…” Memory: Unsorted is a poem about his father and his intrigue with boxing growing up. Six More Weeks (Bonnet Carre Spillway, May 2019) “ With such a death grip on our land, guarding it against the river, can we help but squeeze out ghosts?” Serpents and Insects, 1647 based from an oil on canvas, Otto Marseus van Schrieck, New Orleans Museum of Art. Use it as an answer when they beg to know who’s poisoned John Bell” “ Even if you were not Kate alive, take that name to twist your scream into voice.
My mother broke her leg at home at the same time we were lingering this cave. I do not need a partner to face down their tag team, only a constant glide from suplex to boston crab…” Iapetus (for Robbie and Cathy Wallace) brilliant writing “ She wants to dram of serpents’ coils rolling just under the water’s surface…” Amano (for Frank Relle Gallery, NOLA) ” Even what’s left of this broken cypress tree hasn’t given up reaching for the sky” All Spirits Must Take a Name (Adams, Tennessee) this one resonates with me since this cave in Adams is haunted as hell. “ I am Mil Mascaras, a man with a thousand holds in my arsenal. Mil Mascaras growing up and still a wrestling fan some of these poems about wrestling feel like they were written for people like me in mind. And always the glow of the trumpet rains down on everything in warm bursts, sometimes a bath, sometimes a wave.” We begin with Another Night, Just, easing into Until the Rice Boils “ Sunlight would turn the kitchen-counters honey gold, and all clanks would make song” Yes, Yes We Do “ The Metallic taste of snake’s blood must surely dance on his tongue like the sweet dervish of revenge” Bill Evans on Kind of Blue“ Reeds take flight any time his line flicks near their feet. He’ll take you through Louisiana even if you’ve never put a boot in muddy swamp marsh. And what else would you expect from a former poet laureate of Louisiana. His family is a deep influence on what he writes. He will haunt you with some findings, he will make you smile with the next.
Jack will take you to the swamps of Louisiana into the caves of Tennessee. He is obviously well read and very educated when it comes to poetic forms. Jack’s work also makes me miss the traveling aspect of life. Jack takes everyday life (not just the mundane, but just observation of nature, of travels) and creates a masterful poem out of something you didn’t know was able to be observed in so thoroughly. I become envious as a poet myself, to the marvelous observational style poetry that Jack paints with his words.
I rarely find a poet out there that is truly an original.
Bedell’s “Against the Woods’ Dark Trunks” from Mercer University Press (2022)
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