Showing posts with label peter jelen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peter jelen. Show all posts

Friday, June 10, 2016

Impressions of an Expatriate: China - Peter Jelen (BareBack Press)

Today's book of poetry:
Impressions of an Expatriate: China.  Peter Jelen.  BareBack Press.  Hamilton, Ontario.  2014.


Impressions of an Expatriate: China is one of the more interesting poetry travelogues Today's book of poetry has encountered for a while.  Peter Jelen's all too short book is a celebration of his time in Shanghai, Hong Kong, China.  He loved every minute of it except when he didn't.

For those of you have never lived in another culture with a different and difficult language, Jelen gets it right.  He knows that the small things are often the most amazing, the little wonders often the most startling.  In another incarnation Impressions of an Expatriate: China might just as easily have been titled A Study in Manners.

The Leper

She sat in a rusty wheelchair
at the end of an overpass,
no hands, no feet, no nose
a sign strung around her neck:
I'M A POOR SOUL
PLEASE GIVE ME MONEY
I unplugged my earphones
dipped into my pocket,
pulled out a couple kuai,
but then paused.
Wondered,
how did she get here?
If she has no feet,
she couldn't have walked.
If she has no hands,
she couldn't have wheeled herself.
And shit,
if she has no fingers
she couldn't have written the sign.
I kept my change,
continued on
and was later glad I had.
When I asked one of my Shanghainese co-workers,
a very sweet girl named Sunny,
about this leper at the train station,
she told me the leper had an owner
and was carried there day after day to beg.
Sunny said "Don't give her any money,
it's a business,
people buy the deformed and use them as beggars."
With the foreboding tone of fortune teller
she predicted, "You will see worse,
much worse."

She was right.
I would.
I did.

...

Jelen is not walking on the sunny side of the street, he is writing from a tradition of street-wise and unadorned poetry which is entirely suited, form meeting function.  When called for we can breathe in the rancid funk from the over-ripe back alleys Jelen sojourns through.

You might get the wrong first impressions of China if you only see the unvarnished larceny Jelen gets up to.  Today's book of poetry is convinced Jelen loved/loves China, but as Jelen makes clear, he is wandering a little off the regular tourist route.  And we are the richer for it.

Garbage On My Head

I was strolling through the crowded
malodorous back alleys of Wuban
thoroughly enjoying
well
just being there.

It was so unlike Shanghai,
it was a place where Internet cafes
and telephone rooms were still a necessity.

It was a place without well-oiled sanitation,
where one would have to walk down the banks of the
Yangtze and dump one's own garbage still.

But some people were lazy sometimes.
Some people didn't want to walk all the way down
to the mighty river and dump their garbage.

Some people, I discovered,
dumped their garbage out of their apartment windows
and it rained down on passersby
rained down on me
fusty egg shells,
slimy rice,
oily noodles,
soggy bok choy.

I puked right then and there.

Then I drank some more
and forgot all about it
until now.

...

Peter Jelen's experience of being an expatriate in China opens up the world, Today's book of poetry has forgotten the source of the direct quote and my research staff are currently napping on the couch, the idea that you never really see your own country/society until you've lived outside of it remains true.  When Jelen talks about manners, customs and practise it is the west that comes under real scrutiny.

These poems are immediate, some of them slap you up both sides of your head at the same time they are that quick.  Poems like these come off of the page like Foghorn Leghorn making some big pronouncement or carnies barking for your attention  --  but much like time abroad  --  it's the 
distillation of all that new information that provides the most interest.

Shanghai Cocaine

The best cocaine I've ever had
was in Shanghai,
not because the coke was
of exceptional quality
like a prize winning vintage wine
or something.

I just mean that knowing
I would be blindfolded
and set in front of a firing squad
with one last Camel clenched between my teeth
if I got caught with it
gave it an extra
kick.

...

Clearly Jelen is no angel and this no bible, this is a road map of note, a guidebook that happens to be a journey of poetic self discovery.  Jelen understands that there is both great freedom and unseen barriers when living abroad and as readers we get to tag along without having to carry any luggage.

When I travel, or read poetry, I want to get off the main street and avoid MacDonalds.  Give me a back lane and some street food.  I want to hear the patois, the sound of grease hitting a skillet.  Jelen delivers.

Peter Jelen

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Peter Jelen is a Canadian writer. He has spent the last six years living and working in Japan, China, and South Korea. He is the author of Better Than God, The Cure for Consciousness, and Impressions Of An Expatriate: China.


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DISCLAIMERS

Poems cited here are assumed to be under copyright by the poet and/or publisher.  They are shown here for publicity and review purposes.  For any other kind of re-use of these poems, please contact the listed publishers for permission.

We here at TBOP are technically deficient and rely on our bashful Milo to fix everything.  We received notice from Google that we were using "cookies"
and that for our readers in Europe there had to be notification of the use of those "cookies.  Please be aware that TBOP may employ the use of some "cookies" (whatever they are) and you should take that into consideration.




Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Dickhead - Wayne F. Burke (BareBack Press)

Today's book of poetry:
Dickhead.  Wayne F. Burke.  BareBack Press.  Hamilton, Ontario.  2015.

DICKHEAD_by_Wayne_F__Burke

Happy New Year Puppets!

Today's book of poetry thought about you guys every day.  We were in Toronto checking out the Aga Khan Museum, the Turner show at the Art Gallery of Ontario and a production of Kinky Boots on King Street.  It was by accident that we had lunch at Korean place called Ka Chi, it is on Dundas, one block west of the art gallery, a basement place.  Incredible.  Excellent food, excellent service and very reasonable.  It was the bomb.  Toronto really is a great city.  Hooked up with old friends, argued too much because I am an ass, drank our share of wine, came home sated on the last train out of town.  

Today's book of poetry wanted to start the new year off right so we kept Dickhead in mind.  It is a monster among us, a dangerous beast in our midst.

Dickhead by Wayne F. Burke is a great book to lead out of the gate.  Start as you mean to go on I always say.  If you read TBOP at all you know our fondness for St. Charles of Bukowski.  Burke, in no small way, reads like the best of Hank.  Dead serious, no nonsense and it feels absolutely true.

Showdown

As I lifted weights in the cellar
I listened to the floor boards overhead
creak
from the weight of my Uncle's feet;
I thought of my fist
landing SPLAT in the middle
of his fat face.
His days as boss man
were past
and he knew it too;
and one morning, in the kitchen
as I combed my hair,
which I had let grow long
he asked when
I was going to get a haircut
and I said "never"
and he flinched
like he'd been slapped
and stared
black-eyed
with the glare that used to
pin me to floor like a rabbit
but this time I glared back
and we stood
with the sun burning the roof above
and the years piled up between
us;
and then he turned his head
and with a sick smile
fled
out the door
as gutlessly
as every other bully
whoever ran.

...

No pawing the ground for grubs here, no pretense, Burke is going for the big game.  These poems power off of the page with beautiful raw energy.  But that alone is never enough - what lifts Dickhead to a more elevated plateau is that every poem Burke writes resounds like the retort of a pistol, stings like a slap to the face.

No way around it, these poems are not gentle.  They won't warm you up by the fire.  TBOP felt right at home with Dickhead.  Burke speaks our language.

Doughnuts

I got off work at 3 in the morning
after working another twelve hour shift
and I drove my car
to the P & C Market
where I turned a few doughnuts
on the ice
before I parked and
got out
and walked to the door
where some guy,
who stood looking at me
said "I don't care how old you are,
don't pull doughnuts in the lot"
and I said
"FUCK YOU"
and he blinked behind
his cock-eyed glasses
and I followed him inside
and asked if he'd heard
what I said,
but he did not reply
and I went about my shopping
too tired to
give a shit
or 
take any
either.

...

A man after my own heart.  I'm hearing poetry from the beautiful heart of the dead Bill Hicks.

And speaking of hearts, Milo and Kathryn were pretty funny this morning.  When they arrived, together, I noticed that Kathryn was wearing one of Milo's toque.  At this morning's read they made every poem in Dickhead sound like a love song.  They couldn't help themselves.

These may be love songs, but not the way my obviously lovesick interns would have you believe.  These are love songs the way a matador hums to the tiring bull.  There is nothing but hard cold steel at the end of these suckers.

8

good as winning the lottery
without having bought
a ticket;
good as watching
Ali vs: Frazier
or Army vs: Navy;
good as reading the
poetry of
Peter Jelen;
good as a Cadillac's
engine;
good as having my cock
squeezed by
Miss America.

...

Wayne F. Burke swaggers through Dickhead with such confidence you could almost resent his easy elan.  We loved it.  This is lead, follow or get the fuck out of the way stuff. 

These poems will wake you up, clear your head, knock shit around in your attic.

Wayne F. Burke

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wayne F. Burke was born in Adams, Massachusetts and raised by his paternal grandparents. As a boy he was an All-Star baseball player, and in High School an All Class-A football player. He attended the University of Massachusetts—where he was a member of the freshman football team—and three other institutions of higher learning before graduating from Goddard College in 1979. His work history includes stints as bartender, moving man, cook, machine shop operator, sign painter, substitute school teacher, carpenter, truck driver, book reviewer (for the Burlington Free Press newspaper, Burlington, Vermont), and, for the past four years, LPN in a nursing home. His stories, essays, reviews, and poems have appeared in numerous publications. His first collection of poems "Words that Burn" was published by BareBackPress (2013). DICKHEAD is his follow up collection, which will be released June 2015.

BLURB
"A poet who takes no prisoners, pulls no punches, wastes no words and knows how to tell a good story...Burke not only has the guts to admit his part in the fractured society he makes comment on, he also has the audacity to make art out of it...A sane voice in a mad world."
     - Matthew J. Hall, Screaming With Brevity

"Burke writes with confidence, and swag...Unforgettable imagery, black humour...something in these experiences that everyone can, or will, relate to."
     - Peter Jelen, author of Impressions Of An Expatriate

"Burke is a tough young poet who, like all the rest of us, has learned some lessons from William Carlos Williams, but without imitating Williams.  Burke writes the language of where he came from and with respect for it, and more power to him."
      - Alan Dugan, Winner of The National Book Award and the Prix de Rome


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DISCLAIMERS

Poems cited here are assumed to be under copyright by the poet and/or publisher.  They are shown here for publicity and review purposes.  For any other kind of re-use of these poems, please contact the listed publishers for permission.

We here at TBOP are technically deficient and rely on our bashful Milo to fix everything.  We received notice from Google that we were using "cookies"
and that for our readers in Europe there had to be notification of the use of those "cookies.  Please be aware that TBOP may employ the use of some "cookies" (whatever they are) and you should take that into consideration.