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Open Books: Event Archive
September 19, 2006 07:30 PM
ERIC MCHENRY
The vigor and gentleness suggested by the title of Eric McHenry's debut
volume, Potscrubber Lullabies ($17.95 Waywiser Press), are found as well
in his musical, intelligently witty, and pleasing poems. Mr. McHenry invokes
the poet Philip Larkin, that master of form who had an often dark yet humane
vision, and it is perfect company for him to keep. His poems, too, are
incredibly skillful with rhyme and meter and are tinged with an almost
noir-ish quality (think snappy but kind newspaperman from the 1940's) -- "I
'll grant you the sound of whetstones / whining, but that could be for any
purpose. / We need knives -- even for some kinds of bread." But a McHenry
poem is very much its own animal, whether it is wandering around Topeka or
pondering a monument -- "'The memory of the just is blessed' / but by whom
and of the just what?" Dry humor slips through this collection like a cool
breeze, such as these lines from "Provincial" -- "Is or isn't Burma Myanmar?
/ Here at the international / affairs desk, which is what I call / my desk,
we don't know." And an understanding (in its several meanings) tone
pervades -- "Everybody's / out there pushing something -- stones or
strollers."
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