“I thought it’d only be fair if I give you at least two good poems. Hopefully I can give you more than that, but I can promise to give you two excellent poems, and I can say that because they’re not mine.”
This is what George David Clark said toward the beginning of the Writers Read last Thursday, starting off a memorable evening of poetry with “I Knew a Woman” by Theodore Refke and ending it with “The Well Dressed Man with a Beard” by Wallace Stevens. I had the privilege of eating dinner with him before the reading, and he mentioned that he’s always working on memorizing some poem or other. Right now, he is working on “Carrion Comfort” by Gerard Manley Hopkins.
It is quite a treat to hear good poetry read well, especially by the person who wrote it, and this reading did not disappoint. Clark read beautifully and carefully; not a syllable was out of place. His voice was fluid and resonant, and every word dripped with meaning.
The poems that Clark read ranged in topic from swimming pools to sex to crying babies. He writes very much from his own experiences, which makes the poems much more accessible.
For example, in one poem he read, “The Past Is a Public Swimming Pool,” he writes about going back to a place from his childhood.
“I go back to the place and it’s just not the same there.” he says. “On the surface everything looks exactly the same, but about an inch below that surface, everything’s changed.”
The evening was very informal; Clark frequently made jokes and told stories throughout the course of the night, and his overall demeanor was unassuming and approachable. Often his jokes were self-deprecating, which can be hard to do without making people uncomfortable, but these jokes were harmless and lighthearted.
He compared poetry readings to speed dating, saying, “The good things about these poems is that they’re gonna be over in just a few minutes. So if you get a really bad one, a really annoying fellow, you can just close your eyes, think about something else, and there’ll be another one replacing it in just a few minutes.”
At one point he shared malapropisms, or misspoken language, that he has collected over the years from his students and from his own wife and son, such as “The bad guys upholstered their weapons,” “Don’t lick a gift horse in the mouth,” and – my personal favorite – “I wish I had a pornographic memory.” He indicated that many of his poems were inspired by these malapropisms and read a poem inspired by his son called “Yestermorrow,” depicting a fantasy day in which everything is put on hold for a day and the world can truly rest, “a day where you can’t get anything done.” “Hallelujah! It’s nobody’s birthday,” it begins. “Nobody’s wedding and nobody’s wake.”
For the most part, he explained the context or inspiration behind each of his poems.
The poetry itself was full of original images, such as, “The paint job’s a roaring canary,” and “the white guitar that is her belly,” arresting the reader’s attention with the imaginative and the startling. I hope to see more of George David Clark and his poetry in the future.
