Review of Kyle Flax’s “What Hank said on the Bus” ( Publishing Genius)
Review by Alice Weiss
Review by Alice Weiss
These poems deliver what the title promises, poetry in
standing-on- the- corner diction.
Surprise. Song often breaks
through his leaning-back-into it lines
and then suddenly, someone can
mention a purple suit and a green wig
without
even knowing that they are mentioning such an astounding
thing!
Flak parlays anaphora (every line beginning with ‘from’)
into a rollicking play on the wind from
Vermont in “Oh a Mighty.” “[N]onpersons
and sons of bitches” move him; all the usual things he experiences turn into
fairy tales, or numbers or ogres asking for lettuce. Love makes him optimistic. Running scared he tries to find some way to
balance the fear.
These poems
are downright fun to read. The voice is
quirky but assured. “I am a humongous
mommy underneath my cloths,” is where an indictment of capitalism takes him,
and finishes, “I am scared about how I will feed all the
babies I have growing inside me all the time.” The lines are almost always end
stopped, and spaced and the book builds an unceasing I persona that takes both
the pain of ordinary living, its details, its defeats, and uneasiness, and
transforms it into simple and playful sentence forms.
The long
poem that centers the book, “The Young Filmmakers of Kansas,” records the
making of a surrealist film on the Midwestern plains. In seven short verses ranging from seven to
eleven lines each, Flax traces the scenario. Reversing Jaws is the impulse. The
filmmakers want to eat. The shark is the hero and blood is the theme but the
secret is that they are afraid of girls. The scenes include corpses in the
mother’s brackish swimming pool, mannequins floating across a cornfield,
zombies inside the basement waiting for brains to eat, after all they are
business men. The movie is fun and scare and the poetry contemplates the nature
of evil and blood and young men, even boys, and what they do with fear.
Characteristically
the speaker experiences sweetness and then skitters into some other place. But in the title poem “What Hank said on the
Bus” which I like best of all of them the speaker settles into desire and lets
it be small and sturdy.
she
smells like a pine forest
She is a tiny
secret room hidden inside the pacific ocean
all I do is sweat
and sweat and sweat
at the local coal
mine
waiting for her to
sit
inside my
automobile
Here it is as if the ambitious imagery of the pacific ocean
is contained in his that tiny room
and the shorter lines give the speaker a control of language
that moves past the amusing bombast of the other poems to a delicacy of
feeling, often implied in the other poems, but here come fully to life.
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