Steven Schroeder
Today's Steven Schroeder poem pulls against, in thirteen taut lines, many of the tensions I like to see in poems. It's conversant and yet it doesn't spill all of its secrets by employing too chatty a tone. As well, it's a mysterious poem that, at the same time, manages an odd friendliness. The title comes from the sixth of Satchel Paige's rules for staying young: And don't look back—something might be gaining on you.
Something gaining, indeed. Dementia? Death? Does it matter? It's the poem's 'friendly' touches (the casually nomenclated 'Daschie,' itself cheerily Happy, the concern of the neighbors, and the ease by which the speaker enters into his own nostalgia for purposes good, bad and indifferent) that propel it through its plot. This is not a maudlin poem. And yet, from the reader's wistful distance, we're seized with a deeply felt ache for the man who is not named Crazy Lee. This is wise craft.
Thanks, Steve.
***
Something Might Be Gaining on You
That's not my name, I told the neighbors
When I fell and they found me calling
Happy, that's my Dachsie mix,
Gone up sixteen years this Sunday.
Are you my son? If so, which one?
No, I named mine James and Jacob
And James, the oldest, who stole my mail
Except the bills, so we're not speaking.
Though Doctor Blake made me promise
To take those pills, I flushed them because
He's a black. I looked back but couldn't see
The voice who whispered Hello, Crazy Lee.
Anyway, that's not my name.
***
About the Poet:
Steven D. Schroeder's first book of poetry, Torched Verse Ends, appeared in 2009 from BlazeVOX [books]. He edits the online poetry journal Anti-, serves as a contributing editor for River Styx, and works as a Certified Professional Résumé Writer. He has a few friends.
On the identity of The Nepotist:
I have my ideas, but I don't want to spoil the fun if I'm right or be wrong if I'm wrong, so I'll guess that you're Walt Whitman.
Comments
Posted by: The Nepotist | June 21, 2010 6:50 PM