remembering the body

every picture tells a story
reading Alan Berecka’s Remembering the Body

1

no small thing, this
pointing

the way
where story
thinks itself at war

with vision

2

where there is no vision
the people perish

intriguing, this
telling

stories for the dead

3

not how you play
the game, the game

itself. no point
piling points up

in this dark place

4

playing weiqi
thinking pinball

missing prayer bells
that may just be the point,

no verb contained

5

but not for lack of walls
not for lack of icons

hanging on them

6

every icon
a crack, a crack
in everything. that’s how

the light gets in
bathed in blood, the way
the creator is

reviewed by Steven Schroeder, Chicago

Alan Berecka. Remembering the Body. Mongrel Empire Press, 2011. ISBN 978-0-983-3052-0-0.

not exactly job

Nathan Brown’s Not Exactly Job stands in a long tradition of Biblical commentary that is at once conversation and poetry — poetry in conversation with poetry.

Don’t be misled by my calling it “commentary.” It is not academic — and it is certainly not sectarian. In fact, it’s not exactly “religious” in the way people often mean. It’s more like a conversation with a friend — and that’s a preaching style Brown probably soaked up in years of being immersed (as the son of a preacher) in a Southern Baptist tradition that has produced its share of “conservative” resistance to dealing “head on” with “hard-hitting” questions — but also pastors “in the true sense of that word” who (as Brown says of his father) have fielded “blunt questions” and “profane poems” with “grace, openness and wisdom.”

That could describe Brown’s response to the “profane” poem that is Job. In “Missing God,” he writes “Theologians wax prophetic all over / the obvious reasons God must have / for occasionally going on a vacation / …when He’s gone… / He’s just gone, man. / Yet I am not silenced / by the darkness” (23). And in “Ways to Survive,” “But you were a poet too, Job. / That’s why I read your book” (40). Job, Brown writes, “grieves like a poet . . . like a groping/ philosopher. And, even though I may not / know what he means, I feel like I do. / And I feel like he feels it too, more / than he knows” (26).

Like all Brown’s poetry, this little collection is filled with humor and grace, in spite of “bursting,” as he puts it, “out of a very dark time” in his life. Like Job, he ends with an epilogue: “And Elihu? God never even bothers / to speak the punk’s name. // And Job gets all his stuff back, / twofold — like a blues song gone wrong. / All his flaky friends come back to roost” (42). Brown’s collection ends where Job ends: “like God and Satan / had overextended the budget / and decided to wrap things up / quickly: // And so he died” (43).

As an added bonus, some of Brown’s black and white photos of western Oklahoma are interspersed with the text and featured on the cover, a reminder that, even in conversation with an ancient poem that more than one religious canon has struggled to contain, Brown’s work is a poetry of place, rooted in his experience of Oklahoma and the southwestern United States.

He’s talking with Job, but he’s hoping (as his preface suggests) that others who’ve been subjected to “the modern, conservative Christianity that reigns here in the Southwest” that “seldom if ever deals head-on with the true discussion, the hard-hitting questions that live at the heart of this Old Testament book” — particularly those subjected to it when dealing with “very dark times” — are listening in.

Given the state of U.S. politics and its impact on the world, that includes an audience of potential eavesdroppers far beyond Brown’s Southwest.

reviewed by Steven Schroeder, Chicago

Nathan Brown. Not Exactly Job. Norman, OK: Mongrel Empire Press, 2007. ISBN 978-0-9801684-0-2.