Charlie Smith, “I Speak to Fewer People”

I have been in touch lately with my inner self,
the fruit picker who lived all those years in a motel.
I shaded my story so it proved everything I did was
by intention. After each love affair, each participant
received a little gift. I mean someone always said:
You didn’t really love her. I speak to fewer people
than ever. No matter what it looks like—I say this
every chance I get—something divine is going on.
And wonder: Is it? I’d like to lose a little weight.
Just the same, the marriage had its good points.
I still can’t tell you what I am known for. I’m easily
shamed. On my walks I hope to meet someone interesting,
someone I have been headed toward all my life,
or simply someone without too much guile, a friendly
person with a little intelligence. Maybe we will
walk along together, talking about romance or trucks.

Word Comix is the seventh collection of poems by Charlie Smith, and it also includes “Illustrated Guide to Familiar American Trees.” Published last year, it has recently come out in paperback; last fall, looking at the poems, Aaron Belz wrote: “It sounds real. It doesn’t grasp for something interesting to talk about, a fragrant, beautiful scene to describe and ponder, or a gripping story to tell. It doesn’t get caught up in itself. Smith is at a point in his career when he can just write.” This summer, Smith also published his first novel in more than a decade, Three Delays, which—if it’s anything like the voice in these poems—is going to be well worth a look. I’ll have to investigate!

(Oh, and I meant to mention: This collection is dedicated to Gerald Stern, who was featured last week on Beatrice with the poem “Stepping Out of Poetry.”)

At a Bryant Park event last year, when Word Comix was first published, Smith read “Beauty Works,” a poem from an earlier collection, Heroin:

Smith’s other poems include “Talking Among Ourselves” and “Military Mind” (both published in Poetry).

4 August 2010 | poetry |