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T. R. Hummer’s Ephemeron is “awesome dipped in awesomesauce”
That’s what Brian Spears thinks, at least. Check out his ode to Hummer’s book in the Rumpus Poetry Book Club.
Ok, here’s a little tease. Then go read the whole piece, ok?
I have a confession to make: I hate writing these kinds of essays. All I really want to say is “I chose this book because I think it’s awesome dipped in awesomesauce” and I don’t know where to go from there. (I’ll have this same problem next month, I can already tell you.) But that’s not enough, I know, so here’s why I think T. R. Hummer’s Ephemeron is awesome dipped in awesomesauce.
Let me start by quoting, in full, one of the poems from the middle of the book, “Melancholia for Dummies.”
The sun has exploded in a black sky, but the angel,
preoccupied by demons of his own devising, stares fixedly
Into a middle distance only angels care about. Dürer
was onto something, but meditation is overrated.
While the angel was tilting at mantras, his dog was fading,
dear faithful Cosmo, he who had followed
Through all the rings of Being and the ten thousand zones
of torment, he who never questioned
The wisdom of flying, or cursing god, or dancing
on the heads of pins–old unquestioning creature
Not nagging or asking why or where as he was dragged
by a leash of molten gold from torture to beatitude,
Garden to comet, sin to blessing to vastation–worn out
with his master’s infinite dissatisfied agitation,
He closed his eyes. And you, winged genius of despair,
you want to know why you are thus blighted with angst?
God takes his vengeance in obvious ways. Check out the doors
of your perception, asshole. Look around. Your dog is dead.
What comes next? That’s a real tease, now isn’t it?