Poet's Choice

a few the color of her skin

at the end of summer, sweet present

blown against my lips--

Oh, that

was a good moment to be born in, serendipitous

for how the color set off her collarbone

like a silver belt buckle in a darkened church

and seeing her face then, so calm in sleep

I'll be in sympathy with a car alarm forever

so long as it never goes off again

and when I die finally it's certain the house flies

will love having this sick man around.

The phrase "naked chrome bulldog" is fun to say, but, as the ampersands imply, the poem has no intention of lingering on such moments. Decay, exemplified by the decomposing leaves, will not wait for extended, prosey musings or explanations.

Decay as a reason to seize the day is one of the most traditional notions -- a stock idea. Rivard's quickness dramatizes the idea with a fresh urgency and also with fresh images. The idea of being in sympathy even with a car alarm recalls the giddiness of a lover in some Shakespeare comedy, and the afterthought "so long as it never goes off again" has a Shakespearean light irony to it, expressed in an idiom as American and feisty as that Mack bulldog. ("Speak American, OK?" says the crew boss in another Rivard poem, "and then shut the hell up.")

These street-wise, book-wise, eloquent poems have a bracing sureness and scope.

(David Rivard's poem "A Real, Right Thing" is from his book "Sugartown." Graywolf. Copyright © 2006 by David Rivard.)