Customer Reviews

Thirty-Seven Years from the Stone (Pitt Poetry)

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A perfect book of poems. Each poem makes me shake my head in wonder at such brilliance. His imagery is incredible. He can twist and turn any ordinary moment into a tornado humming with all aspects of life. Startling.

Today I had the pleasure to hear Mark Cox, this year's Frost poet in residence at the Frost Place in Franconia, NH. He read from this lovely book of poems with such clarity, such honesty, that I was compelled to buy the book on the spot. He writes of the things that we all face, that we can all connect with, but still, with careful word choice and all the other fine things involved with the crafting of good poetry, he evokes our own experience as well. The poetry is accessible, careful, emotion-laden but not "sentimental". Build your own collection, using this one as a valued addition.

Cox is a poet whose work I admire and enjoy (and I'm a hard woman to please -- as I am both a poet and a literary critic). This collection is like a complicated American all -you can eat breakfast with surprises, freebies you never thought you'd get and a bottomless cup of thought provoking images to wash it down with.

See him "read" (aka, perform) these if you can, but in the meantime, buy the book and support the work!

Reviewed by Rustin Larson in The Iowa Source

An often heard praise for a poet these days is that he "takes the straw of the ordinary and spins it into gold." However, it may be said Mark Cox takes it one step further, that he gives his gold an unusual new texture and shine. Ever since the appearance of his chapbook Barbells of the Gods in 1988, Cox has been taking perfectly good poetic lines and spinning them into something even better. One line from that chapbook could well have read "Let's... throw our cigarettes from this car like ecstatic hearts, / and let the sparks lead us home." That would have been a good line for most of us. But Cox does a brilliant thing. He reverses the tenor and the vehicle of the simile so it reads "Let's throw our hearts from this car like ecstatic cigarettes..." and for my money the lyric and imagistic movement of the line is enhanced by this strategy. Something emotionally unexpected and vivid comes from it. This is just the sort of gold weaving Cox has practiced and improved over the past decade. His new book, Thirty-Seven Years from the Stone, exhibits a very high level of accomplishment.

Cox's great sense of the absurdity and communicative strength of similes, and his artistry with them, continues beautifully in poems like Like a Simile:

"Fell into bed like a tree/ Slept like boiling water/ Got from bed like a camel/ And showered like a tin roof./ Went downstairs like a slinky/ Drove to work like a water skier/ Entered the trailer like a bad smell/ Where I changed clothes like a burn victim/ Drank my coffee like a mosquito/ And waited like a bus stop./ A whistle blew./ Then I painted like I was in a knife fight for eight hours/ Drank like a burning building/ Drove home like a bank shot/ Unlocked the door like a jeweler/ And entered the house like an argument next door./ The dog smiled like a chain saw./ The wife pretended to be asleep/ I pretended to eat./ She lay on the bed like a matress/ I sat at the table like a chair./ Until I inched along the stair rail like a sprinkler/ Entered like smoke from a fire in the next room/ And apologized like a toaster./ The covers did not open like I was an envelope/ And she was a 24-hour teller/ So I undressed like an apprentice matador/ Discovering bullsh*t on his shoes."

Working with the concept on a larger scale, with extended metaphor and simile, Cox excels. Even a title might reflect a brilliant reversal of the expected, such as The Tunnel at the End of the Light, and then build upon it: "The summer my body began to fit,/ living seemed fluid/ as putting my arm through a sleeve--/ when I threw crusts of bread in the air,/ they became birds,/ when I held her,/ I held myself-" .

There is a great emotional investment in each poem of Thirty-Seven Years from the Stone, but Cox does not stray toward the sentimental and false. Do not mistake heart and courage for sentimentality. Whether reflecting on fatherhood in poems like Make the Cobra Talk, or on his future death in Grain, the uniquely rendered similes transmit a genuineness within the oddity: "...like a snapping turtle in a two-dollar butterfly net,/ I will refuse the new world" Cox says of the prospect of leaving the ones he loves behind when he dies. It's a tenacious spirit that inhabits these poems, that grabs on and holds us even as it turns the world upside-down. Thirty-Seven Years from the Stone is an accomplished, admirable collection of poems.

These poems, like those of William Matthews, will endure to tell the future what it was like to live in the 1990's--these are poems that absorb and transform the objects and everyday incidents around our lives. The eschew the false intellectual pretense of so many fashionable poets today, they discard the acceptable poses for the heart, they ignore the cute little moves that fill magazines and books, and they deal with a complex inner emotional life. The poems are complex in the way interesting people are and so take the same effort to get to know. A reviewer in a recent KIRKUS REVIEW, who hasn't taken this effort, coming against a unique poetry he cannot understand or which lies beyond his comprehension, relies on a few cliche ridden, generalizing comments ("Cox at his sentimental worst... stretches to find significance in everyday things"). Better such reviewers should educate themselves by reading more poems, more variety. The test is to read one of Cox's poems: they take you through a structure of feeling and thinking, they structure an experience rather than bottom line it, discover it rather than report upon it. Their music reminds me of Pachabel or Gorecki -- a steady background that rises to a crescendo, but upon which are played numerous variations. I'd recommend it to anyone who loves poetry-- or lives.