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SO MUCH IS BURNING
By: William Taylor Jr.
16 Poems/5 Photos/$10
sunnyoutside
P.O. Box 441429
Somerville, MA 02144
www.sunnyoutside.com
ISBN: 0-9769857-2-1
Review By: Charles P. Ries
The eyes of a poet often find beauty in rubble, and hope in a sea of
sadness. So Much Is Burning by William Taylor Jr. is a study of
poetic transcendence, an examination undertaken by a writer well suited
to seeing common miracles. Taylor’s work conveys longing as well any
poet writing today. I first encountered his work five years ago when I
discovered his wonderful poem “Being Lonely” in Zen Baby. It was
such a remarkable poem of searching sadness that I have never forgotten
it. So Much Is Burning demonstrates why Taylor has attracted such a
devoted following in the small press.
This collection is grounded in place and set on the humble stage known
as the Tenderloin district of San Francisco. I asked Taylor why he
wanted such a sharp thematic focus. “I had the idea of publishing a
collection of poems and photographs all about a particular place, or
city. I originally had the idea while living in Santa Cruz.
Nothing came of it until I moved to San Francisco and the Tenderloin
about a year ago. A lot of poems came from just walking around and
hanging out in the neighborhood. Most of them were written in
maybe a six month period. I would just send batches of them to David as
they were written, and then we’d [David McNamara, Editor of
sunnyoutside] usually discuss whether or not a particular piece fit the
mood, or theme of the book, and go from there.”
Taylor’s ability to find beauty and hope in this sad town is
demonstrated in his poem titled, “At the Corner”: “It is mid
afternoon / and I am already tired of the day / Just another thing
wasted / another sad mistake / and at the corner of Geary / and
Leavenworth / the sky is perfect blue / high above the bus stop / where
the strung out / red-haired prostitute waits / her crazed eyes almost /
but not quite / beautiful.” And again, in his poem titled, “Like the
Dripping of Rain”: “The 4:00 a.m. sound of the / tranny
prostitute’s heels / click clacking up and down Post St. /
beneath my window / is strangely comforting, // like the dripping of
rain / it lulls me to a gentle sleep.”
Only a few lines in this collection step perilously close to becoming
melodramatic such as in, “The City”: “Some days the city is
a beautiful / as anything that’s ever been // and some days the city
is a living thing / whose only purpose / is to devour you slowly / and
completely, body / and soul // with jagged / poisoned teeth. // Some
days the only victory / is to be alive enough to feel it.” Taylor’s
gift is restraint, and in this poem I feel he may have chosen other
words than devour, jagged and poisoned teeth to describe this city.
I asked him about what he does to walk this line between pathos and the
melodramatic with such agility? He told me, “In much of my work there
is a certain mood or feeling I want to convey and I simply try and use
the best words possible to do so. I don’t know how else to
explain it. I do believe there is sadness in beauty and sometimes beauty
in sadness. When I am affected in some way by something I try and
write about it in a way that will make the reader feel whatever I felt
at the time of the experience.” I also wanted to know if Taylor was
filled with as much pathos as his poems often depict. “I don’t think
so. I’m generally relatively happy in my everyday life. I
tend to release my dark side, if you will, in my writing. Most happy
stuff tends not to make interesting reading. To quote old Thomas
Hardy, If a way to the best there be, it exacts a full look at the
worst. Meaning, the dark aspects of life must be confronted and accepted
before any real peace of mind or happiness can be achieved. A kind of
peace must be made with the darkness.”
Here is another poem from So Much is Burning titled, “Sucker’s
Bet”: “I imagine most of the / people in my neighborhood / don’t
believe much in poetry / and I’m not sure if they should / it’s a
sucker’s bet / to look for beauty in these / sad broken streets”
I believe the roots of the writer’s voice can be found by looking at
his or her life. Since Taylor used “Jr.” in his pen name, I asked
him to tell me a little about his father. “My father was a WWII
veteran. I think there was a lot he experienced in the war that he
never really talked about. His father, from what I gather, was an
abusive alcoholic and a preacher. My dad had nothing good to say
about him. All of my life my father was a devout atheist, bitterly
critical of organized religion of any kind. My mom was, and still
is a practicing catholic. It made for an interesting relationship.
My dad generally was a quiet, decent man, prone to fits of violence when
provoked in a certain way. Now that he’s gone, of course, I wish
I’d known him better.”
I also wanted to know about Taylor’s training as a writer, “Right
after high school I attended a junior college in my hometown of
Bakersfield for a few years. I mainly took art and literature
classes. I did well in those, and not so well in the classes that I
wasn’t as interested in. I’ve never had much discipline for
the classroom setting. I’ve never liked doing things in groups.
At the time, I didn’t have a job in mind that a degree in literature
would help me get. I didn’t have an interest in being a teacher.
I was rather directionless, as far as school went, so after a few years
I dropped out.” I asked him when he began writing, “I’ve been
actively publishing probably about 15 years now, since my early twenties
or so. I told myself that when I had written what I thought to be
100 good poems, I would start submitting. I got a fair amount of
encouragement early on; a lot of my work was being accepted by the
little zines and such, so I just kept at it.”
When he told me his two favorite dead poets were T.S. Eliot and Robinson
Jeffers I began to see Taylor’s writer’s soul come into sharper
focus for me. “Eliot was probably the greatest poet writing in English
in the 20th century. A true poet’s poet. You can read his
best work over and over and never tire of it. There is always
something new to discover. The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is
probably my favorite poem by anyone, ever. Jeffers was the last
great poet of the epic tradition. He captured the natural beauty
of the earth like few poets could. He found comfort in the fact
that the universe and the great beauty of things will continue long
after humankind is gone, when there is no heart left to break for it, as
do I.”
It’s such pleasure to read Taylor’s work and meet his city. He is a
writer with a long future, and an audience that will grow. I was pleased
to learn that Chuck Nevismal’s Centennial Press will be publishing an
expansive collection of new and selected poems by Taylor called, Words
For Songs Never Written. No date has been set for that release, but it
is about time this fine poet got a book large enough to showcase his
considerable talent.
_____________________________________
Charles P. Ries lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His narrative poems,
short stories, interviews and poetry reviews have appeared in over one
hundred and fifty print and electronic publications. He has received
three Pushcart Prize nominations for his writing and most recently read
his poetry on National Public Radio’s Theme and Variations, a program
that is broadcast over seventy NPR affiliates. He is the author of
THE FATHERS WE FIND, a novel based on memory. Ries is also the author of
five books of poetry — the most recent entitled, The Last Time which
was released by The Moon Press in Tucson, Arizona. He is the poetry
editor for Word Riot (www.wordriot.org).
He is on the board of the Woodland Pattern Bookstore in Milwaukee,
Wisconsin. Most recently he has been appointed to the Wisconsin
Poet Laureate Commission.
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