Book Review/ Interview: Matthew Borczon Battle Lines. Epic Rites Press, Sherwood Park, 2017 (50 pages).

Battle Lines is the second collection of poems by the Erie, Pennsylvania resident Matthew Borczon. He was a nurse and Navy sailor at Camp Bastian during 2010-2011, which at the time, was the busiest combat hospital in Afghanistan. Upon his return to the United States, Borczon was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in 2012 and started writing as a form of therapy. In a recent interview with BM, which follows this review, he explains, “I was unable to talk about the war and a therapist said I needed to get my story out somehow.” But as Borczon has painfully discovered, the writing hasn’t made the ghosts of his nightmares to go away.

There are 40 short poems in the collection. The language is understated and carved to the bone. There are typically only two words in each line and the words cascade down the page, similar in form to the late outlaw poet Todd Moore. The poems tightly compress Borczon’s most recent reflections into his post-war condition but he also includes the narratives of others he has heard about from a string of wars, including Afghanistan, Iraq, Vietnam and World War I.

Borczon says of the title, Battle Lines, “There was some discussion about what it meant and was it a fitting title? I used it as a way of saying that for some of us the war is not over, not just me but I know Viet Nam vets who still have a lot of trouble and I can say honestly I do not know of anyone who comes through a war and is the same after.” 

Although Borczon was not a front-line combatant, his role as an emergency trauma nurse, would have brutally exposed him to death and dying on a daily basis. The collection does not explore his role as a medic, but rather focuses on his return home to America and how he has struggled since to make sense of it all. We experience his nightmares, his panic attacks, the resentment some people express towards him in the community, we sit beside him at group therapy, enter his workplace- & along the way, we come to better understand why he needs a drink or a smoke, and most importantly,  how he has become estranged from his family.

Borczon subtly incorporates his thoughts and impressions onto the page and his use of stark, realistic imagery and language adds authenticity to his writing. In some key poems, we are able to join the dots to help us better understand his sense of hopelessness and disintegration. In “Brian emailed” he explains to his friend about the presence of his online poetry: "I am/ just trying/ to make/ sense out/ of everything/ we saw". In “the inmate”, the prisoner, an ex-soldier, discovers that his new cell number is the same as the squad number he has tattooed on his forearm. Borczon, working as a prison nurse, is asked if he thought this “meant something.” He replies:

I no longer

believe anything

means anything.

In “like war” Borczon admits that he “knew what to expect” but didn’t think he’d  “come back… in pieces”:

like war

movies and

dime store

novels I

thought I

knew what

to expect

I never

thought I

would come

home pure

but I

expected

to come

back whole

instead of

in pieces

(reprinted with the permission of the author)

Some of Borczon’s best work are the terse, imagist micro-poems such as “in the”, “Kevlar chest”, “I once” and “helicopters” which further hint at the terrifying and unrelenting ghosts embodied in his imagination.

Borczon’s writing is perhaps most compassionate when he describes the impact of the war on his own family. In a series of poems, “when I", “my mother”, “my wife”, and “for Dana”, he represents how his deployment in the Afghani War has smashed to pieces his pre-war identity and how the casualties of war are not only those who served, but also their loved ones- the children, partners and parents. In “for Dana” the reader feels a pulse of humanity, long suppressed by Borczon in the careful, deadpan delivery of his poems. The broken, hollow man temporarily stirs & perhaps even sheds a tear:

for Dana

hold me

and squeeze

the ash

out of

my heart

the sand

from inside

my skin

lean in

and sing

into my

ear until

the ghosts

leave

run your

cool hands

over my

118 degree

nightmares

and if

I start

to cry

all the

tears I

have will

you build

a boat

out of

your memories

of our

life before

the war

(reprinted with the permission of the author)

About 15 of the poems in the collection are third person portrait poems which provide snap-shots into the post-war lives of veterans, in particular, how they are psychologically maimed as a result of their war experiences. The most disturbing amongst these poems is “his neighbour” in which a bunkered down vet decides to kill a vexatious neighbour, but impulsively shoots himself through the head instead.

Also memorable is “Randy repaired” about an Iraqi war vet who used to fix bicycles for the local children, but “now he/ can’t get/ through a/ night without/ a bottle/ of tequila/ and a/ machete.” The poem “Gary’s been” furthers the idea of dislocation and paranoia. Even after being back from Iraq for 8 years, he “still/ won’t pull/ right up/ behind a/ strange car/ at stoplights.” “Andi Got” succinctly expresses the numbness, the sense of death that many veterans feel. He orders a farming magazine from England and wryly says,

I need

to put

something

in the

ground that

is not

dead

In "they were" before a physical induction, Frank drops a stack of weights onto a guy’s foot so he can avoid serving in Viet Nam. Each of these poems adds to our understanding of the grievous impact war has on everyone involved. We never find heroes in this collection, only victims- who are traumatised for life.  

The book’s jacket was designed by Richard Robert Hansen publisher of poems-for-all. It is sepia coloured photograph and adjoins the front and back covers. It features a column of American soldiers rushing to board what appears to be a Blackhawk helicopter, which is blurred in the distance. The difficulty of establishing the time and place of the photo is deliberate, and perhaps Hansen is universalising the traumatic impact that all wars have on those who bravely serve as represented by Borczon’s work.

This is an outstanding but short collection of poems by a writer who has survived a war but who is perilously clinging on. Asked this morning about how his head was now, Borczon vulnerably replied: “I think I have given up on the idea that I can ever really get better, I hope to get better at living with all of this. My symptoms come and go, lately it has been extreme anxiety, and panic but some days it is other things as well. I still have nightmares pretty much every week, but I am better at processing them and just kind of moving on after they happen though. I do the best I can, I still have a job and the wife has not left me yet and my kids are all healthy and happy so I do not feel like I have a lot to complain about.”

BIO: Matthew Borczon is a nurse and Navy sailor. He has written two books of poetry, A Clock of Human Bones from the yellow chair review press and Battle Lines from Epic Rites. This summer he will release Ghost Train through Weasel Press and Sleepless Nights and Ghost Soldiers from Grey Borders Press. He has four children three jobs and still manages to find time to write and publishes often in the small press.

Find out more about the book and purchase it here: http://www.epicrites.org/rumors-and-rumblings-of-war/battle-lines or here: http://www.epicrites.org/pre-order.html

INTERVIEW WITH MATTHEW BORCZON 18 JANUARY 2017

Can you explain why you started writing about your war experiences in Afghanistan?

I started writing as a form of personal therapy, I was unable to talk about the war and a therapist said I needed to get my story out somehow. I had written poetry a lot as a young man and it just sort of came out that way.

I have a friend who quit nursing after facing the trauma one night of a carload of critically injured teenagers in a small regional emergency ward. You've seen a lot of shit. How were you able to grind it out overseas for those two years?

The job is just the job. There was no other choice, probably why it is so hard now. At the time you suppress how unreal and bloody it is. Hell, we even laughed at it at the time. The hours were long but it is what you signed on to do so you do what they ask. I remember wondering if I should not be bothered by how normal it all felt at the time. It really was only after that it started to affect me.

You were trained for the job and knew what to expect. When did it all start unravelling for you? Was it a specific or a culmination of events. 

Some people close to me say I was different the minute I got off the plane, but it was only a couple of months before even my wife was saying I needed to figure out what was wrong with me. I do not think it was one thing though. The nightmares started right away so that was my first clue.

Can you briefly explain how your diagnosis of PTSD was determined in 2012? What medical benefits did that diagnosis allow you to access?

I was referred to the va by a counselor I was seeing, the VA system has a group of evaluations and tests to help them determine the diagnosis. I am currently 70% disabled, this money made it possible to trade down to an easier nursing job. I had been a prison nurse and the job was brutal, long hours and there was real danger in it at times, which my therapist thought was really unhealthy for me.

When you returned home, how had you changed and how had others, including family and friends perceived you differently?

I was anxious, depressed and angry all the time. I isolated and drank way too much and then there were a lot of unhealthy thoughts about whether or not I still wanted to be alive.

Wolf Carstens of Epic Rites Press is a huge fan of your first book of poetry, A Clock Of Human Bones. What was the process like in getting Battle Lines into print? 

I am a huge fan of Wolfs writing and after he read A Clock of Human Bones he sent me some of his books to read. I did not have another book to send him so I just made a small chap book on my computer then sent that to him. I called it my fictitious chap book. After he read it he said he wanted to put it out. After that it all moved really quick, he has a ton of good energy and he brings it all to his projects. I really enjoy working with him.

In Battle Lines, why did you decide to include a separate page to provide "a full definition of battle line"?

There was some discussion about what it meant and was it a fitting title. I used it as a way of saying that for some of us the war is not over, not just me but I know Viet Nam vets who still have a lot of trouble and I can say honestly I do not know of anyone who comes through a war and is the same after. Not that I have met anyway.

How is your head now? (Are you still experiencing nightmares? Flashbacks? Panic Attacks?) What has helped you in putting some of the pieces back together again?

I think I have given up on the idea that I can ever really get better, I hope to get better at living with all of this. My symptoms come and go, lately it has been extreme anxiety, and panic but some days it is other things as well. I still have nightmares pretty much every week, but I am better at processing them and just kind of moving on after they happen though. I do the best I can, I still have a job and the wife has not left me yet and my kids are all healthy and happy so I do not feel like I have a lot to complain about.

Who are some of your literary influences in writing of your books and who are you reading now?

I love the writing of Wolf Carstens and John Yamrus, I also love a lot of the small press writers. Jason Baldinger is a Pittsburgh favorite. For larger literary types I loved CK Williams and Jim Carroll had a special place in my early writing life. I enjoy Bukowski, like everyone else. I am currently reading a whole lot of small press poetry from folks like Sarah Francis Moran and Rusty Barnes.

How do you presently juggle your professional work with that of an aspiring writer?

The writing is easy and I usually do it in my car waiting to take my kids to school. The poems are always there just like the nightmares. The working on my career such as it is takes a lot more time. I submit a whole lot and I am always somewhere into the next book idea. I work as a practical nurse for a social service agency so I am pretty busy in my work life that is probably why it is mostly poetry, no time to write fiction. Though I have published 4 short stories in 2016.

What do you have in mind for your next project?

I just agreed to put out a chap book with Grey Boarders press from Canada, they are interested in maybe putting out my first full collection of poetry sometime in 2018. I also have a chap book coming in June from Weasel press called Ghost Train. There is also another manuscript shopping around now, but that one has nothing to do with the war. I try to not only write about my PTSD, though it is hard to get away from.

Thanks Matt.

Selected Online Poems

If you haven’t read Matthew Borczon’s poetry before, the following five poems will provide you with a taste: 

“what i did in the war” (Chicken and Coffee): http://www.friedchickenandcoffee.com/2015/12/12/what-i-did-in-the-war-poem-by-matt-borczon/

“Finished” and “What we never talk about” (Drunk In A Midnight Choir): https://drunkinamidnightchoir.com/2016/04/26/two-poems-matt-borczon/

“Sitting In The Dark” (Your One Phone Call): https://youronephonecall.wordpress.com/2016/11/01/sitting-in-the-dark-by-matthew-borczon/

“VA Appointment” (Your One Phone Call): https://youronephonecall.wordpress.com/2017/01/01/va-appointment-by-matthew-borczon/

Further Resources: 

Poets Underground Presents Matthew Borczon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7WLwuELZ1U

Book Review/ Interview: Mike Meraz She Poems (Epic Rites Press, 2015) 33 pages

She Poems is American poet Mike Meraz’s latest collection. It consists of 30 minimalistic confessional poems. The poems are less than a page in length and they all hug the left margin of the page. Like Shakespeare’s love sonnets the poems do not have formal titles but rather are numbered 1 to 30. These are clear, highly accessible free verse poems which focus on the poet’s relationship with a variety of women and his accompanying thoughts and feelings on love.

In a recent interview with Meraz (which appears after this review), he explains the genesis of the book and how he came up with title, “ I was writing a lot of poems about a particular girl. I was going to call it “(the name of the girl) Poems” but then I started writing poems about other women in my life or had been in my life. The writing happened in a span of about 2 years. It was then I realized I had a book in the making. Also, I was writing a lot of poems with the word “she” in it. I would never mention names, just “she this”… “she that…” So that’s where the title comes from.”

In the interview, Meraz also clearly points out that “all the women in the book are individuals not composites” and are a product of his experience rather than his imagination. Asked about the number of women who appear in She Poems, he is surprised, “If you would have asked me off the top of my head, I would have said 12 or 13. But there are 19. These are women in my late twenties to my mid thirties to the past few years. Some women in the book I didn’t even know personally. I just saw them on the street or at work.”

The book largely celebrates Meraz’s fondness or rejection of the women he writes about in his poems. His observations are typically simple and direct. One important motif he uses is on trying to nail down what he finds attractive about the women he meets. Sometimes this is difficult. Poem 21 begins, “I am not sure/ What it/ Is// Could be/ Some/ Tone of / Voice// Or some/ Nuance/ Of/ Speech// Or a Nonchalant/ Walk/ Down the/ Street. In 29, he finds mystery and beauty in a girl in “The way/ You/ Don’t/ Smile.” In 22, he is attracted to a girl with a “Long/ Ponytail/ Nonchalant/ Like she/ Doesn’t/ Exist// But right/ Now/ She fills/ The/ Void.”

The following poem evokes the simple, spontaneous joy of staying up late with a girl and talking nonsense and not really having a care in the world: 

17

Some memory

Of a

Girl

Who smoked

In my

Room

With

White walls

And

Laughter

White

Smoke

And

Staying up

Late

The hours

Filled with

Nonsense

That had more

Meaning

Than most

Things

Deemed

Important.

(reprinted with the poet's permission)

In She Poems, Meraz is usually writing about young love and not the banal domesticity of marriage. His descriptions of women express a tenderness in a good-humoured, affectionate way. His language is discreet and nuanced rather than erotically explicit. He treats his women with great respect and as equals, even when things fall apart.

Another important motif in the book is the need to find a balance between conversation and physical intimacy. In poem 14, he amusingly admits, “Last night/ I talked/ Too much/ To a girl/ In my/Bed// There was a/ Point when/ I knew/ I should just/ Shut/ Up.” In 30, he has an argument with his girlfriend and to dissipate the conflict she offers to come over the following week to watch a movie. He replies, “Sounds good… We were better/ At/ Cuddling/ Anyway.” In 6, Meraz recounts that in his 20s he spent some time on the streets of Long Beach talking to the preachers and painters and poets, “looking for some lighthouse.” He comes to the epiphany: “It wasn’t/ Philosophy/ I/ Needed// But/ Love.” Poem 8 offers a further take on this idea:

8

She says

I like your

Poems

You write about

People

And

Life

Rather than

Ideas

We need that

I think of all

The ideas and

Philosophies

I have

Learned

All the searching

I have done

I will take a

Walk hand in

Hand with a

Woman

Over that

Any

Day.

(reprinted with the poet's permission)

Meraz always has his feet planted firmly on the ground and never resorts to hyperbole or idealised notions of love. His view of love is varied but grounded in the idea that “we are all flawed.” He explains, “As I have gotten older my view of love has changed. I used to be very idealistic when it came to love. I had this standard that was very high. Now I am more relaxed about the whole idea of love, less judgmental, more easy-going. I guess, because I understand human beings more, we are all flawed; there is no girl with the golden eyes and the golden heart out there.”

A couple of the poems express the notion that love is like an addiction or as a force of gravity which cannot be tamed. In poem 5, the speaker says he has experienced the highs and lows of love with a woman and views the relationship in gambling terms: “And like some/ Addicted/ Gambler// I put my/ Heart/ On the/ Table// One/ More/ Time// Even though/ I once/ Said// I will/ Never/ Go into that/ Casino/ Again.” In 18, an ex-girlfriend texts him and a swirl of negative thoughts amass in his mind about what had stuffed up their previous relationship. He concludes stoically that the need for love is an unstoppable and natural force like gravity and he immerses himself headlong into the relationship again, “But/ Fuck// Love is/ A law// As strong/ As/ Gravity/ You fall/ Again.”

Meraz does not shy away from the negative aspects of relationships. He deals with the issue of incompatibility, the failure of love and the illusiveness of connecting with others. Fortunately for us, Meraz does not dwell on the pain and trauma caused by break-ups; instead he sees the experience positively as a learning tool to take with him to his next relationship. As he shrewdly says when asked about his view of love, “There are great girls, but with everything there are downsides. It’s like you have a choice- be idealistic and lonely or relax a bit and have some fun, enjoy life, try to find the good things and attribute them to your life. I guess, that’s a lot of what this book is about. Even in the bad experiences there is humour. In heart break there is wisdom. We can go through life being conquered by it. Or we can be clever and turn the bad experiences into poems and art and have the last laugh at life.”  

Another strong motif in the book is the idea of woman as muse in the creation of Meraz’s poetry. Women are seen as the inspiration for many of his poems. In poem 7, the girl with the “long dark hair” “Inspiring/ A/ Poem// At/Last.” Similarly in 28, “You stare into/ Her eyes/ She stares/ Into yours/ And love poems/ Are written/ In/ Between.” In 2, a second person poem, the couple are actually seen as “two pieces of Art.” And in 25, the entire relationship is viewed in terms of its association with literature. It concludes with the transcendent, “Everything/ Is/ Art.” 

The front cover is illustrated by Toni Greis and is of a young girl with glasses painting a small red heart on her bedroom wall. Meraz saw Greis’s work on Facebook and after messaging him about She Poems Greis quickly became involved in the project.

She Poems is a candid, diverse collection of poems about fledgling relationships. The poems are clearly crafted and arranged. As you read through the collection, the words might provoke you to recall your own special moments of youthful love and innocence.

Interview with Mike Meraz 11 October 2015

Q: You have been writing for many years. Do you have a regular routine in getting it down?

I don’t have a regular routine. I basically write when an idea or poem come to me. I could be at work, or in the shower, or riding my bike. Sometimes I will be reading a book or listening to music and a memory or the first few lines of a poem will come to me and I will jot it down. But there is no routine, it is always spontaneous.

Q: How do you describe your style in 'She Poems'. To what extent are they confessional?

They are all confessional minimal poems. All the poems in the book are based on true events or at least inspired by true incidents or circumstances. I can’t write purely off imagination. My imagination works off reality. My style is very simple, I think, with complex ideas.

Q: When did you first think you had a book in the making? (For example, had you written a few poems previously and thought this was a great concept for a book?  

I noticed I was writing a lot of poems about a particular girl at the time. I was going to call it “(the name of the girl) Poems” but then I started writing poems about other women in my life or had been in my life. The writing happened in a span of about 2 years. It was then I realized I had a book in the making. Also, I was writing a lot of poems with the word “she” in it. I would never mention names, just “she this...” “she that…” So that’s where the title comes from. The book basically named itself. I just went with it.

Q: How did you get it up and reading thru Epic Rites Press?

Wolf Carstens, the editor of Epic Rites Press, has been familiar with my work for some years now, probably since 2010. He has always told me if I ever have a book in the making to send it his way.  When I was finally finished and comfortable with this work, I did just that. I think it took him a day or two to read it and respond with an affirmative yes. I was happy because Epic Rites is a solid press. You can just tell by the way he does things, he means business.  I am glad to be on board.

Q: You appear to represent many different women in your poems.  How many are there? /Are they composites or individuals?

Well, after reading this question, I actually counted and there are 19 women in the book. I was actually surprised by this number. If you would have asked me off the top of my head, I would have said 12 or 13. But there are 19. These are women from my late twenties to my mid thirties to the past few years. Some women in the book I didn’t even know personally. I just saw them on the street or at work. I am not sure what inspires a poem in me. But it is some affect in the heart and brain. But all the women in the book are individuals not composites.

Q: How did the illustrator Toni Greis get involved in this project. Was he given a brief?

I found Toni Greis through facebook. I was looking for a cover artist, and this was actually the hardest part of putting the book together. I petitioned other artists but nothing seemed to hit the mark.I wanted something that looked pro. I didn't want it to look like some small time book. I wanted it to stand up against anything you could find in a real bookstore. So I was on facebook one day and I saw some of Toni’s work and something in my mind said, ‘that’s it.” So I messaged him through facebook and after explaining to him the project, and showing him the actual illustration I wanted to use, he agreed. I was very happy when he said yes.

Q: What qualities are you looking for/ not looking for in a woman?

This is a broad question and very hard to answer. I am not looking for someone who is boring. I need someone who is exciting, fun, and dramatic. Now this does not always mean this is the easiest type of woman to be with, because passion and energy run both ways. But as a writer, this is the type of woman who holds my attention. Physically, I usually go for curvy women, but there have been exceptions. I just like passion and energy. I need someone to play off of, like a muse.

Q: In your book you show many different aspects of love. What is your view of love?

As I have gotten older my view of love has changed. I used to be very idealistic when it came to love. I had this standard that was very high. Now I am more relaxed about the whole idea of love, less judgmental, more easy-going. I guess, because I understand human beings more, we are all flawed; there is no girl with the golden eyes and the golden heart out there. There a great girls, but with everything there are downsides. It’s like you have a choice, be idealistic and lonely or relax a bit and have some fun, enjoy life, try to find the good things and attribute them to your life. I guess, that’s a lot of what the book is about. Even in the bad experiences there is humor. In heart break there is wisdom. We can go through life being conquered by it. Or we can be clever and turn the bad experiences into poems and art and have the last laugh at life.

Q: Is your blog black-listed magazine still running?

Black-Listed Mag is still up and running but I am not publishing as often as I used to. I will usually let the submissions pile up for a month or two then in one weekend post a bunch of stuff. But it is still there. I have thought about ditching it because it does take up time. But then I think it’s still a cool site for good underground poetry.

Q: What's next for you?

I have another book in the works about the writer’s life. I am not sure when this will be out as I have yet to actually put it together. But there are about 40 poems in the vault that I think would make a good book. It’d be in the same style as She Poems, very minimal, confessional poems. I am hoping to have it out by 2017. For now, I am concentrating on She Poems. So far it has done better than expected, so I am excited about it.

Purchase your copy of She Poems here: http://www.freewebstore.org/Tree-Killer-Ink/product/she-poems

BOOK REVIEW/ INTERVIEW: R.L Raymond Half Myths & Quarter Legends. Epic Rites Press, Sherwood Park, Alberta, 2012 (71 pages).

This is the second poetry collection by R.L. Raymond, a resident of London, Ontario. It consists of 43 carefully crafted poems written in free verse which have a fragmented, pared to the blood & bone feel reminiscent of John Yamrus, the American small press poet. Although the language is deceptively simple, you may have to read the poems slowly and multiple times to allow the complex associations and layers of meaning to sink into your veins. There is an unflinching mystery and understatedness about Raymond’s writing which is difficult to nail down but which is also highly appealing.

The enigmatic title Half Myths & Quarter Legends refers generally to the many stories that we read and hear on a daily basis, but also to the specific myths & legends that we accumulate to explain who we are & why we are here. As Raymond explains in the interview which follows: “The only thing we have are myths and legends. From the stories our parents tell us, to religion, to theoretical science, all the words are really just tales spun for one purpose or another. I thought it would be cool to study a few of these — from Christianity to Paganism, French Canadian Lore to Spanish Folk Tales — in current, daily environments. Why half and quarter? The words never quite tell the whole story. Everyone has to fill in the blanks, add his or her own fears, history, perceptions.”

In the collection, Raymond explores through his narrative poems, appropriated Christian, Celtic, Islamic, Canuck and a variety of folk tales- but always through a fresh, secular and skeptical prism. He reimagines myths & folk allegories to the extent that they become unrecognizable to the contemporary reader. In ‘What the wolf said’, for example, he takes the big bad wolf moral tale and places him in a New Mexico desert where the wolf savagely latches onto the leg bone & soon the rib of the mysterious bone-man.

The cover features a black & white close-up photo by Raymond of a gargoyle he purchased at a yard sale- looking to the heavens in pain- expecting an answer it will never receive. This image bluntly sums up Raymond’s ironic, godless take on existence. 

There are no gods in Raymond’s world. Christianity is largely seen as an outdated and irrelevant institution. The speakers of his poems view religion with disdain and cynicism.

In ‘Littergy’ a lame pun on liturgy, while a boy is waiting for his mother to finish her confessional, he blasphemously tears strips of paper from a hymn book, rolls it into little balls and watches as they ignite in the flames of holy candles. Spurred by glossy ads, a middle-aged couple in ‘They visit’ enter a church, “the stink of incense hangs/ from the walls/ as if nailed there/ centuries back”. They are there to take photos and not for spiritual reasons. In ‘Divinity’ the speaker of the poem catches a cab and notices rosary beads hanging from the rearview mirror. The cabbie drives in a careless manner while talking to him. The speaker sarcastically quips at the end of the poem:

And that JC himself

            is in the passenger seat

            running the ghost break

 The title ‘Stations of Jim’ also ironically highlights the absence of God. As the days unfold for Jim, there is sense of helplessness as he discovers that he has cancer, that there is nothing that is going to save him from a painful and premature death. The title is an obvious parody of the 14 Stations of the Cross- a reference to the sacred paintings & scripture scattered around the inside of Catholic churches to represent the key events in Christ’s passion. Using a clever über structure, ‘Stations of Jim’ is also told in 14 sections but is rather focused on documenting the ordinariness of Jim’s family life, his sentence of cancer and his inevitable descent into suffering and death. 

The poems in the collection also interesting in how they describe an ordinary event like cooking a steak (‘This product has been found to cause cancer’), house cleaning (‘Her meaning of quotidian’), waiting for an airplane to depart (the excellent ‘Snowbird’) or slurping on  soup (the Spanish folk tale ‘La bruja) and make it new- as if it has been experienced for the first time. ‘Soft-boiled’ is my personal favourite:

Soft-boiled

dry leather wrinkles

            at the lips

            under a growl of effort

a butter knife decapitation

            the pure white chunk

            discarded

yolk blood drips

            down the sides

            to drown the little soldiers

these days he can only chew

             the tepid goo

his knuckles hurt

             when he drops the shell

             with the skull

                         into the compost

(reprinted with the poet's permission)

    

There are also some fine portrait poems in the collection. In ‘Ad nauseum’ a mentally ill man from a park bench raves to pedestrians that the “son (sun?) is dying”. In ‘Onward on three legs’ a bent elderly man vows he will “never honour” or look into the eyes of his daughters-in-law who are “waiting to drain him” of his wealth. In ‘The respite home’ AC smells of cat piss but continues to write stories in a defiance of his careers & his approaching pine box. 

Like many of Epic Rites books, there is an underlying dark thread in the collection, that lies in wait just below the surface of everything we do-  a lurking, a some-times expected but certain death. In the powerful fragmented, associative poem ‘Pathetic watches and warnings’, the weather and the everyday event of driving a car are juxtaposed with the telescoped cancer diagnosing, treatment, death & burial of Aunt B. The tone of the poem is deadpan, matter-of-fact- highlighting the commonality and the bleak & utter finality of death:

Pathetic watches and warnings

the sheetmetal threatened

they pulled under an overpass

wondering  how the beefsteak plants would fare

then about Aunt B’s knuckles

swollen as she fought

the aspirin bottle

‘moth ball’ would be a description

on the weather network that night

apt in colour and size

covering the pavement

the odd hailstone plinking

the hood or the trunk

***

‘golf ball’ was the description

on the medical report

the first image that came to mind

was death

             all grim

             all reaper

with one iron

the club even god can’t hit

teed up high

            lined at Aunt B’s head

                        and not a ‘FORE’

                                    to be heard

***

after the meltwater evaporated

under whipping winds

they drove off

thankful their car was untouched

when they passed others

dimpled and dented

***

 tomato juice had spilled

on the marble countertop

pills pebbled on the floor

around her body

            dropped and crumpled

                        cooling by the window

***

rain soaked

             the course was closed for the day

            the plot was easy to dig

no hail

no gusts

no storm

just a procession of freshly washed cars

and a body lowered amidst chatter and platitudes

(published with the permission of the poet)

Death is represented as a certainty but also as an inconvenience to the living in ‘Death brings certainty’ in which an aunt dies intestate. The surviving relatives don’t really give a shit about the deceased. They are more concerned about what they can get out of the dead aunt’s estate for themselves. In a dark, ironic tone, the speaker of the poem shits out the line, “but nothing prepares them/ for the backyard/ unkempt/ ravaged” to have to exert an effort to clean up the property for sale purposes.”

‘Dead End’ provides another original perspective on death. In the poem the battered body of a deceased homeless man is hurriedly removed and safely disposed of to “once again” shield “the coffee shop patrons” from the grim reality of death.

In Raymond’s world things are only partially observed and only temporarily understood. Simple events are not always what they seem to be on the surface. Matter is finely perceived and luminal in increments. The reader is awakened to the ordinary anew and then in a penumbra of inner consciousness, shifts once again.

INTERVIEW WITH R.L. RAYMOND  27 OCTOBER 2013

Q: Can you provide some background detail for your readers on the processes involved in getting Half Myths & Quarter Legends published through Epic Rites Press?

There really wasn’t a process per se. I was introduced to Wolf Carstens at ERP by John Yamrus who’d dug some of my poetry online a few years back. Through talking, exchanging ideas, reading each others stuff, Wolf and I realized that ERP was the perfect home for Half Myths & Quarter Legends. The poems are pared down, to blood and bone, and have a certain darkness based in reality that Wolf respects. It was a dark horse that fit the stable. 

Can you clarify what you mean by your title? 

The only thing we have are myths and legends. From the stories our parents tell us, to religion, to theoretical science, all the words are really just tales spun for one purpose or another. I thought it would be cool to study a few of these — from Christianity to Paganism, French Canadian Lore to Spanish Folk Tales — in current, daily environments. Why half and quarter? The words never quite tell the whole story. Everyone has to fill in the blanks, add his or her own fears, history, perceptions. As for the cover, an image I took, it fit the concept pretty well: a gargoyle, a regular, garden-variety gargoyle, looking up at the heavers in pain. Summed it up. Something mundane, from a yardsale, trying to look like something else, staring up for answer it’ll never get. Ok, that’s deep enough… I just though it looked damn cool. 

Are your stories usually grounded in real experiences?

Love this question. Of course some of the poems are loosely based in reality (“Marbles and skipping ropes” is a nod to my Mother, and “Coyotl” has a ‘real’ base in local news), but mostly, they are made up. People seem to think that ‘poetry’ — their word — always points to catharsis, ‘soul’ searching, capital T ‘Truth.’ That’s crap. Poetry is just the vehicle I’ve chosen to tell stories. And that’s what they are: fictions, made up, artifice and lies. When someone asks “Wow, wasn’t it hard writing about your daughter/son/etc that way?” they can’t believe when I tell them it’s not about me. I’m a writer, not an autobiographer. 

Several of the poems are explicitly connected but is there an overall pattern to the way the collection has been sequenced?

I try to follow a linear chronology that makes narrative sense. Within that, there are ‘sections’ in HM&QL representing different religions and situations. Moreover, if you read Sonofabitch Poems, Weakdays, HM&QL, and the new one, you can find long overarcs. It’s important to have voice, and to have cohesiveness inside a collection and inside a body of work. I can’t stand ‘collections’ that seem to be a jumble of poems or thoughts without connection. Maybe it’s the formalist in me, or the inherent mathematician — I like patterns. 

Where do your poems come from? 

Poems or stories all stem, for me, from an image. Maybe something I spotted or overheard, something tucked back in the ether of my subconscious. But it's always something concrete. 

(published with the permission of the poet) 

"To Vagary" came from a backyard rustle one day. A squirrel (probably) that became somewhat Lovecraftian. Nothing more to it for me. For a reader, I hope it invokes a feeling from childhood, or maybe a place he or she was in but shouldn't have been. 

In writing poetry what do set out to do? 

That's easy: tell a story that makes the reader laugh, cringe, feel or think. A story worthy of a reread. 

How would you describe your writing style?

Describing your own style is tough and sometimes comes off as pompous. I'll throw a couple of words out there that I think work: simple, pared down, narrative, formalist, imagist. Of course I'm a writer and I make stuff up, so take it all with a grain of salt. 

Do you have set routine each day for writing?

Can't say that I have the discipline I'd like to have. I probably do take notes and pictures and jot down points daily. When it comes to putting it all together, I wait until I have a pretty complete story in mind and I write it down. Luckily, I can usually pull off piece quickly without needing incessant rewrites. I've been known to spit out a poem in the first draft. Not always but often enough. That's the beauty of writing down notes and ideas all the time. And I take a lot of pictures. 

What advice would you offer talented young writers?

Read. Read more. Write. Edit. Edit more. Find something interesting to say and say it in your own voice. There are so many people writing in a style that is so blah that it's impossible to identify the writer. Develop your own "thing" your "schtick" and nourish it. Copy folks while you learn; copy no one when you write. And I can't say it enough: don't be boring. A good fart joke is better than a bad poem. 

I enjoy reading the e-books on PigeonBike. What’s the background to the latest Trees or Jobs? (2013): http://www.scribd.com/doc/150431112/Trees-or-Jobs

There is a woodlot in my city, with a wetland, that is slated for development. A lot of people, including local poets and writers, want the development stopped. My issue is more pragmatic: what are they putting up? Big box stores and more crap we don’t need. We need jobs in this city (London, Ontario) and industry that will attract new people, new skills, new jobs. In my opinion, the proposed project would not only destroy the woodlot, but would bring no meaningful advantage. That is my issue. And instead of just jawing about it, or writing a poem that no one will read, I decided to put together the broadside, and the electronic version. A city councillor brought it to council, others were posted, given to libraries, etc. I wanted to do something concrete, not just artistic. So I put my money, design, and a piece behind it. I’m not an activist, but I want my opinion heard. The whole project is still up in the air. 

I notice that your book publishing wing of PigeonBike is now sleeping. What’s the latest? Do you intend publishing again in the foreseeable future?

The pigeon is sleeping and the bike’s put away. I have no immediate or even mid-term plans for PigeonBike right now. I’m proud of what we did to this point. I know in the future I’ll probably resurrect it again, but for now, I’m letting it rest its weary feathers. I’m focusing on my writing.

Do you have any up & coming projects?

I’m currently looking for a home for my latest poetry collection “Needle shadows through the pines.” Although it continues the ‘narrative’ arc I’ve set out to tell, the collection also dives a little deeper into the man vs woman vs nature / pathetic fallacy realm. Some fun ‘stories’ in there, as well as some dark ones people have come to expect.

Aside from poetry, I’ve been resharpening my fiction pencil. I’ve written a few stories, some floating around in submission land, others waiting for a home in print that I am not at liberty to disclose at this time. I’ve decided to take the next logical step: add a little flesh to the themes and images from my poetry, all to expand them and give them more life. Somewhere, buried in my notes, is a novel, or at least a collection of short stories.

And I’m taking lots of pictures…

RLR

Bio:

R L Raymond lives and writes in London, Ontario, Canada. He holds a Master's Degree in English Literature from the University of Western Ontario. With poetry, fiction, photography, and painting, Raymond just tells stories. Read his narratives in three poetry collections, and in dozens of literary publications around the world. For more information: www.RLRaymond.ca 

Collections:

Sonofabitch Poems - PigeonBike Press

Weakdays - Corrupt Press

Half Myths & Quarter Legends - Epic Rites Press

www.rlraymond.ca
www.about.me/rlraymond