Customer Reviews

Still Life in Milford: Poems

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Still Life in Milford is a book of poetry firmly planted in Catholic culture, firmly Midwestern, firmly small town. Yet Lynch writes poetry with universal meaning - accessible to those neither Catholic, Midwestern nor small town. Like many similar works, it plays off "Catholic guilt"; unlike some works it truly "plays" - it has a sense of humor regarding youthful understandings and preoccupations while recognizing that the youth is the basis for the adult understanding.

An especially touching piece is "The Moveen Notebook" - based on family history and the inheritence of the "home place" in Ireland. It begins: "When I first came, the old dog barked me back, / all fang and bristle and feigned attack." The strength of the poem is in it masterful use of the ordinary - but what an enjoyable "ordinary" to read.

Thomas Lynch is my friend, my neighbor, our small town's undertaker, but most importantly, Tom is a poet. His dry wit rings through his work. I can hear his voice as I read his words, his words, which lend such beauty and grace to the day-to-day which we call our lives. He brings a sensory insight which gives goosebumps to my soul.

Mr. Lynch delivers the goods for this relic of 20th century Roman Catholicism. Expert at poetry, life & death; Mr. Lynch took me places that I sometimes did not want to go while reading this compilation. Enjoy this over & over!

What a great book of poems. Buy it, read it to laugh and even sympathise with the writers grief. a fresh out look from a unique man.

I have fallen in love with Thomas Lynch. He not only is very funny but insightful. Who thought a book about the funeral business would be so entertaining. I've since bought all of his books and just wish he had written more.

You can feel Lynch's angst in choosing each right word. He succeeded. This is a book of priceless gems.

I don't like much poetry. Even the word itself is insufferably prissy. But Thomas Lynch's stuff is one of the few exceptions. For one thing, his stuff doesn't rhyme. Which is a big relief. Unfortunately, Tom is also a living testament to that sinister Catholic-priest brag about the efficacy of their brainwashing. ("Give me a kid when he's 7 hours old and he's mine for life.") Tom spends too much time boring me to tears with Catholic subject-matter and consecration-mongering.

I love what Tom said about newlyweds: "They kiss in the backseat of the limousine. Black satin and white lace they wave and smile. We gawk from the sidewalks. They are strangers to us."

They sure are.