Two by Drew (Pisarra)

When reading a poem, or a book of poems, based on other material, does the reader need to be familiar with that material? Is this why ekphrastic poems are often published with a picture of the work of art that inspired the poem? The closest I’ve come to writing ekphrastic poems are two longer poems written while experiencing exhibits of multiple works of art.

When Drew Pisarra told Unlikely Stories about his new book Fassbinder: his movies, my poems, I told him I have very little familiarity with Fassbinder’s work—could the poems still work for me? Drew said yes.

And yes he uses a number of references to the movie business in general, as well as elements from the various films. Knowing almost nothing about these films, I wonder how much of the poems is related to the movie and how much is the poet imagining, providing transitions and such?

“I’m going to get drunk on Ballantine whiskey
And traffic in illegal firearms and stay
In seedy, fleabag hotels, and have illicit
Affairs with beautiful people already
Involved with marginally attractive other people” {“The American Soldier”]

And yet I can’t help feeling that not knowing how much of the matter is Rainer’s work and how much is Drew’s shades my opinion of Drew’s skills. And maybe it’s a little inflexible of me to feel this way, but it’s just a shade.

Bottom line, it doesn’t matter much where the material came from, it’s what the artist does with it. Drew is a master of the craft, starting the book with a villanelle, rhyming poems here and there, prose poetry, etc. Much respect for his enthusiasm for, and knowledge of, film. But most impressive to me are the character voice—reminiscent, in a scaled down, modern way, of Robert Browning’s dramatic monologues.

From “World on a Wire”:
“This opinion is not acceptable,
Nevertheless, aliens are watching us.
Of that I’m fully aware. I’ve caught
Them hovering below dropped ceilings,”

The range of characters, while often idiosyncratic, displays a range of deep emotions, artistic ideas, and insights into human relations. I’m certain Pisarra got this sensitivity and observational skills from much of his life, not just movies. Like universal yearning, in “Rosa L.”:

“How she wished she could buy
into the idea of a reason for everything,
a science to explain it all and even a logic
as to why things happen as they do”

Drew is especially skilled at creating poems that can be viewed in different ways, enjoyed and appreciated by readers with different knowledge and experience sets.

In Pisarra’s previous book, Periodic Boyfriends, we get more Drew as Drew. Plus, I have much more familiarity with the periodic table of elements than Fassbinder films—will that keep me from seeing what’s in the poems, and not in my own chemical meanderings? Not only is every poem (except the first) of the 123 titled as an element, they’re all 14 lines—sonnets, mostly romantically/sexually inclined.

I’ve often warned folks not to date a poet cause the encounter will show up at an open mike. And with 124 poems relating to relationships, Pisarra has been around. As shown in this collection, he is relentless, hard-working and very good with language.

With this short form, Drew often gets things off to a roaring start:

“Word on the street. You’ve landed in prison
for the naughty, naughty things that you’ve done,
acts that you did to me with precision.” (Titanium)

“Calling all prudes who claim Russian roulette
is a game played when bullets are liquefied;
for them, a contact sport where gamblers bet
on fornication that’s been demonized.” (Dubnium)

I’m guessing that almost no one approaches the periodic table like a book, page by numerical page. [The table is also organized in horizontal columns of shared properties.] As with this book, it’s great to just skip around.

You may be wondering—do I need to know things about the elements? Just as the Fassbinder poems worked for me without knowing the films (while realizing I would get more references if I did) these poems all work without the chemical knowledge. References abound:

“God of trickery. God of thievery.
Fleet-footed Hermes with the snake-wrapped rod.” (Mercury)

“You’re depressed. I get it. The meds have made
you fat. Your feelings haven’t changed. Your mind’s
gone flat.” (Lithium)

And Gadolinium is full of wizard references. But I have not taken the time to look up elements and see of anything in the poem relates directly—and there’s no need, just perhaps a little extra pleasure.

Just as the periodic table has two, out of order, ‘sidebars’ (though placed below), this book ends with the two sections, lanthanides and actinides. The lanthanides were once called ‘rare earths,’ though not all of them rare. The corresponding section of poems is different, because each is dedicated to someone. Every poem in this book is about someone, but I feel a little more affection in this series where those people are named:

“At NIH, the doctors let us smoke dope
in a sanitized room down the hall of
last chances since high-risk biotech
treatments are not about cure as much as
explore.
 
Geez, the weed is good. Not quite hope,
but an effective salve. We get high off
a few tokes then joke about colonics,
clown porn, teen hustlers, Reagan masks,
weeping sores. . .” (Samarium (for Rudy))

Probably it’s better not to name everyone poemed in this book. Maybe some of the “you”s in poems are combinations of more than one individual. Maybe some are totally made up, or someone else’s experience. It doesn’t matter, cause the poems are crisp, well-crafted, and often surprising.

And that’s what I’m here for, the word—snappy, soaring, heartfelt—a periodic table of emotions and experiences. I’m sure you can find all kinds of refences to the chemicals in the poems. Pisarra is a pro in terms of poetic skills and energy. He also provides ample access to his own personal feelings and changes, as well as giving colorful insights into parts of gay culture. This book has so much to offer—sex, drugs, music, and above all, chemistry.