Contro-Verse is Jeff Taylor, Anna Geoffroy, Cathleen Chambless, and Chris Hickey. Thanks to Jeff for recording this.
01:55 If the Mind Goes First (for my father),
02:23 Marsha Said,
03:05 REPLY TO SOMEONE WHO HAS HAD A LIFETIME OF LOSSES,
03:47 The Ordinary
04:52 I didn't want to call the 988 Operator, Late 2022
06:09 Dependents
06:48 What Cannot Be Fixed
07:39 After You Go
08:09 Reflections; A 17 Year Old Drug Addict Forty Years Later
09:12 How to Extinguish a Raging Fire
09:52 Tennessee Songbirds
10:48 Found in a Basement in Dorchester
11:28 Flashbulb of a Lightning Storm
12:08 Into the Silent Sea
12:55 Star Island, Night One, 2024
14:14 Almost Famous
15:23 Things You Find in Miami Beach (25 Thousand Dollar Pyramid Form)
Grateful to Lo Galluccio, Poet Populist of Cambridge, who wrote a wonderful review. Also, grateful to Doug Holder, poet, and Poetry Czar for publishing it in the Somerville Times and The Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene.. The Times is one of the area's leading print town newspapers, and Doug has been an editor there for over 25 years. Nice of him to sneak the F word into a local paper. The links above will bring you there, or just scroll on down to read it!
Is the title ironic? Is it meant to mimic a toothpaste or detergent commercial? X-tra Whiteness suggests not race in this book, but some kind of gleam. Or maybe Gager is playing on the theme of whiteness, and even including race. After several readings, I’m still not sure but the title, it’s pop and its ambiguity, drew me to this collection, without a doubt.The book’s divided into four sections, the first “Blue” contains poems most of which are elegiac poems to loss: the loss of a pure, true love, the death of his beloved father, its blue meaning bereft, blue as in the blues, to be blue, sad, as Nick Cave mentions in his lecture on love songs like the Portuguese word saudade. Here is tangible sorrow, even desolation, a sense that the world has broken apart into a void. In “Dependents” Gager posits that rescue when it comes, comes too late to save anybody. “Listen/smother me with a pillow/Don’t worry, no one will come/…/and when they finally come…it’ll be too late.” p. 11. In “After You Go” he writes: “we send to the sky our grief/when writing letters/to the deceased.” p 13. This affirms both the sense of futility and awe that accompanies a close relative or friend’s passing. Certainly, a testament to mortality and our inability to stop death. And later, “No one makes/our longings/into a song.” There seems no compensation, no silver lining to this black cloud. There is a nostalgic poem to three past New Year’s Eves with the lost partner, now gone: 2020, 2021 and 2022, where in a Cape Cod Airbnb it begins to drizzle, “right before the sky fell down.” p 17. Gager deftly deals in worldly concrete specifics, often juxtaposed with more abstract forces, nature, the sky. In 1/1 he insists that his love is “one of one” and that since they no longer converse, “…I no longer recite.” p 19. A sense of mute longing that is however, undercut by the playful, imaginative language with which Gager crafts these “blue” poems. They are, as he writes in “It Sunk” “…my best pieces, /wreckage after implosion.” p 23.
Part 2, is a shorter section entitled “X-tra-White.” It begins with a poem called, “Reflections: A 17 Year old Drug Addict 40 Years Later,” a meditation on getting clean and losing bad habits of addiction, a little shoplifting, badmouthing others which amount to an “empty echo of lunacy –” and the harsh violence or violated foundation “struck, strike, striking,/of permanence.” The addict recovers through an act of faith as God is summoned and gives one more chance, so the addict “started to clean.” p 29. This is an ode to recovery without going into the painful steps sobriety requires. In contrast, in a combative mood, there is indulgent excess that is a “reply to someone who said, there’s a lot of selfish going around here.” In response to this reprimand, the narrator licks sweet syrup and heaps on bacon, “sticking my tongue directly on/the sizzle of a steak.” When something is stolen from us sometimes our impulse is to steal more from the world, in a desperate and seemingly justifiable greed, “I’m waiting to eat more/of what the world owes me.” He wants, “More/Bring it/Some more.” p. 31. Dunno, is Gager suggesting that X-tra whiteness in\our society means, addiction/recovery/country music/abuse/death…some of the themes in this section. He ends this part with a “found” poem that takes excerpts from Twitter, In Their Own Words on NYE, 2022, drawing upon the tweets of female public personas that range from Michelle Obama (On Knitting) to Marjorie Taylor Greene (Saying Stupid as Fuck Things) to Margaret Atwood (On New Year’s Day)-- the kind of piece that gives us verifiable documentation of the way social media voices can scream at us for good or ill.
In Part 3, “Re(a)d” Gager moves into a more redemptive sequence of poems on matters of the heart. The first, title poem plays with the homophones, “red” and “read” and suggests that we read or interpret that bold valentine of love in a hypnotic, playful way. There is rhythmic music to it: “heart/red red/heart/red red/heart/red/heart/red.” p 44. Here is something almost primal about how fragile and trancelike a beating heart is. In “Picturing One Great Love” the poet pines to paint a portrait of the beloved and ends with the plea, “Can I finish one drawing/Please…just one?” p. 45 Longing can trick us with its endless myriad tugs, no matter how clearly we see and want the vanished love object to materialize. And there is also a coming to terms with the reality of not possessing-- the sanity of it-- by acknowledging our lack of control. In “Acceptance Poem” he pens an ode to serenity, a concept familiar to many recovered addicts (or members of 12 step programs of all kinds.) As he puts it: “A goal is to have no expectations/Please accept this distance/a gift, where serenity lives/as prospects crucified us.” p 51 Same as prey he suggests we survive with grace like birds, “hummingbirds, bluejays, sparrows and finches.” There is poignant beauty in the poem “Into the Silent Sea” where “the moon was not full today;/it was shaped like a heart,/seen from the bottom, light diffracted,/in a way that made you nauseous…/ that sickness that a state of isolation brings as he still feels “like an incredible ship/sunken and abandoned.” p 47. This section ends with a poem for which Gager was nominated for a Pushcart prize, a narrative poem about a visit to Star Island in 2024 that juxtaposes the calm beauty of a “white gull, blue water/the calmness of the completed” with the brutal excavation for a grave back home. The piece ends with a moment of seemingly perfect harmony though, a bird joining the choir by the sea, and the poet’s astonishment that “a piece of congruence, /swiftly the flash of/” could be real. “Damn, it can be,” he asserts.
The final section, “Blu-ing, as distinct from the first section, “Blue,” is where the poet takes on other themes, objects, even humor. It’s as if “Blu-ing” were the poet’s ability to compensate for or distract from the underlying grief by looking at the world with some jauntiness and resilience. It begins with “Abecedarius,” in compressed form, a poem whose lines copy the sequence of the alphabet. Only this one is just seven lines, that run from letters A to X, a lovely mysterious piece that lives “under voracious waters,/xeric, your zone.” Someone, and I forget who, said that a few poems should contain exotic or unfamiliar words, so I looked up “xeric,” and it means arid. With the big currents turned back, the poet is dwelling in a paradoxically safe, dry space, under a deluge. The poems “Almost Famous” and “Literary Action Figures” give us some comical relief; the first about how Boston’s so called famous eating joints are actually not known outside of the locale and the second is a look back to childhood toys and a sibling spat about a Barbie whose hair is pulled out, and a “Bukowski doll” and the favorite, a Kurt Vonnegut figure, who defies his sick sister’s destructive tendencies. Real or fictional it gives some insight into the writer’s psychic literary pantheon. In “Recipe Dumb-Ass Men Use to Cook Women” Gager catalogues the obnoxious ways men can turn off women in their ego-centric stupidity, including lying and “proclaiming distaste toward/ the dirty bourgeoise./ p. 69. A simple fave of mine is the closing poem, a list poem called, “Things You Find in Miami Beach,” that includes “a hairless cat” and “Hot as fuck/white/sand.” In the end, he leaves us with a slice of the world, an ode to escape on a popular Florida beach.
This is a marvelously composed collection that includes both the sacred and the profane. It’s about love, loss, mortality, addiction, recovery and survival and it’s both a good time read and enlightening literature about the state of our humanity. From the particle of deep loss to a wider field of understanding and acceptance, Gager takes us on a carefully executed poetic journey that leaves us wiser and well sated. I’ve frankly missed out on a lot of Tim’s fiction work, but I’m very happy to have found this, his latest offering. I feel both alive and awakened by it.
I’ve had some amazing book launches in the course of
my nineteen books. I read at all of them without any reservations, as I was
confident in the work, had some friends to read with, and the turnout was great.
All-in-all, very humbling. There were many highlights, which I remember fondly.
2014 Lasagna Launch for Bill Sloan---(Hi, mom and dad)
The Thursday Lunches of Bill Sloan
In 2014 for The Thursday Appointments of
Bill Sloan, I made a lasagna, and hand packed 15 or so brown bag lunches to
give to those attending. In the novel, the main character, Bill Sloan used to bring
the same brown bagged lunch every day. The lasagna had nothing to do with the
book, but I make a killer lasagna, and no one spilled, spit out food, or destroyed
anything at Porter Square Books. Those who brought home lunch bags messaged me
the next day that they ate it for their lunch break at work.
Elephants anyone?
Every
Day There is Something About Elephants had a great launch, but in a way, sad now as The New England Mobile Bookstore closed during Covid. That was such
an interesting place, and still is missed. On that day, the CEO for my publisher, Big Table Publishing, Robin Stratton brought food and elephant cutouts. After that launch I was texted pictures of elephant related anything and everything.
Speaking
of Covid, the book 2020 Poems, was launched on Zoom in January 2021. It was ten
months into the pandemic, when people never left the house. I was grateful for the
large support I received on camera that day.
In 2022, and 2023, Joe
the Salamander and The Best of Timothy Gager brought in full houses
on two Saturday afternoons at The Center for the Arts at the
Armory in Somerville. At Joe’s launch I had t-shirts from Sunnyslope, Az, where
Joe and his family lived, Legend City Amusement Park, where Joe’s father
worked, and a Superman shirt, which Joe often wore.
* Which
brings me to this Saturday, and the launch for my new book of poetry, Almost
Bluing for X-tra Whiteness. I have some reservations because it will be difficult
to read some of the poems, originally written 2022. A lot when down in 2022,
and things got dark by the end of that year. Many of these poems reflect that.
Those who knew me then know exactly what I’m talking about, and those I trust,
have heard if from me. If this is new information…well, you and I really must
work on our relationship.
I’m a proponent of in
writing, that you must go there, to the difficult places, whether in memoir, fiction,
non-fiction or memoir, because that’s what makes it real, and in my case, I just
wouldn’t write. It’s obvious in my writing when I’ve made a decision to hold
back. What I will say about those past struggles is the support which I
received from many people during that time. I will never forget those friends
who were and are still a part of my journey. I can say with complete honesty that
now life is amazing, and everything going on today is full of hope, love, and
gratitude.
Hope to see you all Saturday.
I’m so happy to bring out the new book, and I hope someone asks me about the
title. Best of all, I’m extremely excited
to present the other poets, supporting this reading, whom I find spectacular,
Melissa Cundieff, Krysten Hill, and Chad Parenteau. Melissa appeared on my Virtual Dire Series and I was just blown away with her work. Kysten's poetry is always amazing, and distinctly different than mine, but so good it's downright catch-your-breath good. Chad, an important individual in the poetry world, which puts his own fine and unique work on the back burner. Proud to call him a friend. I’m grateful for accepting
my invitation to celebrate with me.
The Remnant Satellite Brewery in
Cambridge sponsors this event, because they want to support the arts
in the area. They certainly stepped up to the plate.
It's always nice to get a nomination, and to get it from my publisher who believes in me. It is my 19th Pushcart nomination. Robin Stratton and Big Table are always on my side, and I'm very happy they publishedAlmost Bluing for X-Tra Whiteness, and nominating the poem Star Island, Night One, 2024. This is a poem I wrote on Star, and read in the chapel. Also, kudos to Niles Reddick, Paul Beckman, and Zvi Sesling.
Many thanks to all our participants. We have over 100 poets reading at this year’s Boston Poetry Marathon. <!–We are close to our fundraising goal, to cover the costs of this all-volunteer effort. Please donate today!–>
Please note this schedule is subject to change. No readers will be moved out of their hour without notice, but they may be moved around within their designated hour without notice. PDF version and the Zoom link forthcoming.
Thank you for your interest in the Boston Poetry Marathon! We look forward to seeing you on September 28!
The Summer Series features were wonderful readers. Talented, extremely intelligent, and easy to be in conversation with. Check out the ones you missed.
Doug Crandall, Mathew Olzmann, Martin Ott, MP Carver, Phil Temples, William Orem, Mag Gabbert, Robert Fleming, Danielle Legros Georges, Michael Keith, Mark Wish
Marianne Leone, Tiffany Davenport, Jennifer Friedman Lang, Ray Guidrox, Gary Grossman, Elizabeth McKim, Carla Panciera, Dr. Dannagal G. Young, Ellis Elliot, Enzo Silon Surin, Josh Barkan, Laura Zigman, Tom Laughlin
Suzanne Frischkorn, Kim Addonizio, Thomas McNeely, Jenna Le, Sarah Bridgins, Lee Matthew Goldberg, Lise Hanes, Dr. Paula Perez, Michael Mark, Maya Williams, Hannah Sward, Caitlin Avery, Carla Swartz, Stacy TenHouton, Donna Spruijt-Metz, Morgan Baker
Jonathan Papernick, A.K. Small, Aaron Tillman, David Rockland, Kimberly Ann Priest, Sain Griffiths, Harris Gardner, Lisa Taylor, Michael Keith, Jim Shepard, Zach VandeZande, Rusty Barnes, Daniel Nester. Kurk Lovelace (reading from Annemarie O'Connell's book), and Nina Shope
Sara Lippmann, Robin McLean, Gregory Orr, Rich Murphy, Diane Suess, Ron Tanner, Aleathea Drehmer, Christina Adams, Sharon Applegate Greenwald, Lucas Scheelk,
Joseph Milosch, Barbara Legere, Ellene Glenn Moore, Vincent Cellucci and Chris Shipman
