Saturday, August 8th, 2009...11:07 pm
lawrence welsh | todd moore’s riddle: obscurity, redemption and fame
Todd Moore & Lawrence Welsh
aaaaaaIn the annals of American poetry, Todd Moore is an anomaly. The author of more than 100 books and chapbooks during the past 40 years, he’s both known and unknown at the same time. In fact, Moore is regarded as a legend in the underground and renegade press circles, yet no university or mainstream press has touched his work, except for a few well-regarded anthologies.
aaaaaaWhat’s needed now, then, is a selected poetry by a major press with wide distribution. There’s no poet in America more deserving. Until that time, however, we’re lucky enough to get a new, large chunk of his work with The Riddle of the Wooden Gun, which Lummox Press published earlier this year.
aaaaaaAs a new installment in his 35-year-old Dillinger epic, Riddle is a first-rate romp into the heart and soul of the American dream. It’s a dream that’s so close to actuality that it’s eerie in its portentousness and its real-life dramas. But the wooden gun, which sometimes exists in reality, is also a ghost or spirit that no one can fully pin down.
aaaaaaFor the gun shows up, disappears and then appears in another’s memory or world. In a sense, then, it seems like we’ve all owned a wooden gun or have possessed one in our life. It can take shape as a dead relative, a lousy job, a gone girlfriend, a dead lover, a drinking or dope curse, a lemon for a car. In Moore’s world, they’re all metaphors for wooden guns:
“wish i knew
whatever
became of
the wooden
gun my
daddy sd
it got burnt
in a house
fire down
in kentucky…”
aaaaaaThe gun also inhabits and serves as a symbol for the spirit world – both the dark and light realms — and can switch in another’s memory or fantasy into a talisman or trickster as important as an ancient crucifix or medicine pipe. In this sense, the reader sees how New Mexico, the land of enchantment, has affected Moore and slipped under his skin during his life there the past 15 years. For no other state in America is as infused with ancient Christianity, Native American blood and new age alchemy as New Mexico:
“it was the
wooden
gun that
had every
one edging
back toward
the wall
some kind
of black
energy was
twisting
off the wooden
gun &
just hanging
in the
air…”
aaaaaaAt the same time, the wooden gun also inhabits the world of light, healing and hope, almost like a miracle worker, prophet or saint:
“she sd
it was
good luck
to touch
& wd
heal any
sores
or wounds
& she
wanted
dillinger
to have it…”
aaaaaaBut the real heart of this first-rate book is the knowledge that there’s no end to the wooden gun, that it remains with the reader as an endless quest for what? Salvation, damnation, protection, a joke, a ruse, a shield? Perhaps none or all of the above. In essence, that’s the riddle.
aaaaaaIn the end, it’s all impossible to nail down, like a meditation session or prayer cycle; impossible to fully quantify but still essential for living, like air or water or bone — or not important at all. It’s up to the reader to decide. As one anonymous old timer tells us:
“wooden gun
stories i
got a million
of em
which one
wd you like
to hear…”
aaaaaaFor Todd Moore, the answer is, of course, every single one of them, mainly because Moore is an obsessed writer who has taken obsession into a life-changing journey. And the obsession is not only with Dillinger here and a wooden gun, but the relentless search and dedication to develop a one-of-a kind, bullet-proof voice in American poetry and letters. This obsession, which he has lived for 40 years, has significantly paid off. The Riddle of the Wooden Gun is a masterpiece.
aaaaaaNow what our nation needs is a 500 page selected poems of Todd Moore. Until that time, it’s the reader’s job to seek him out, to uncover the richness and to discover that Moore, along with the wooden gun, “are the / stuff that / dreams are / made of.”
some related articles are listed below:
- todd moore | dillinger and the riddle of the wooden gun
- lawrence welsh | outlaw waiting
- todd moore | rd armstrong | reads
- lawrence welsh | skull highway
- todd moore & Lawrence welsh | poetry reading
- todd moore | dillinger was
- lawrence welsh | notes from a punk survivor
- todd moore | the coyote trickster and the wooden gun
- lawrence welsh | a savage refinement: the art of bill rakocy
- todd moore | leaving a little blood on the floor
- todd moore | stealing dillinger, becoming an outlaw
- todd moore | all the way to the fame
- rd armstrong | todd moore and lummox press
- todd moore | the blood of america
- todd moore | when…
- john dorsey & s.a. griffin | the dead zone trilogy by todd moore
- todd moore | the machine gun blood of the poem
- todd moore | the dillinger convergence: three ways of dreaming the outlaw
- todd moore | the name is dillinger
- tony moffeit | shaking the bones
- todd moore | love & death & teeth in the blood
- tony moffeit | a revolution of consciousness: review on dead reckoning by todd moore
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- todd moore | the second
- todd moore | this
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- todd moore | mythic blood, psychic movies, outlaw dreams
- todd moore | coyote death mask outlaw
- todd moore | the great american poem
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- todd moore | i want it all and i want it now
- todd moore | american metaphors, visions, and nightmares
- todd moore | the sentences are burning
- todd moore | outlaw bonfires and dillinger’s blood
- todd moore | blood and fate under mad stars
- bill nevin | todd moore, cinematic poet on the outlaw’s trail
- todd moore | dillinger, outlaws, writing, and murder
- todd moore | i don’t want
- todd moore | the long way home and the blood on the floor
- todd moore | danger beyond danger, where the outlaw lives
- todd moore | nightmare splender
- todd moore | dillinger, the coyote, and the wolf
- todd moore | working on my duende
- todd moore | the dark country
- todd moore | machine guns, movies, culture, dreams
- todd moore | i’ll play dillinger
- todd moore | working the outlaw wind
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- todd moore | taking on bukowski
- todd moore | the murder and the ecstasy of the everlasting dream
- todd moore | the perfect
- todd moore | the question
- todd moore | hemingway
- todd moore | the old man’s waiting
- todd moore | dillinger, death, and the high mountain air
- todd moore | gimme danger
- todd moore | how come
- todd moore | what are the stakes in american poetry?
- bone | poetry by todd moore & rd armstrong
- todd moore | just
- todd moore | hustling for drinks, praying for lines
- todd moore | the last good reading from the outlaw dark
- todd moore | falling in love with danger
- todd moore | falling asleep in outlaw country
- todd moore | burning the…
- todd moore | the volcanic death song of baby face nelson
- todd moore | reading the dark
- todd moore | we cut
- todd moore | stealing the fire, stealing the shadow
- todd moore | the nightmare of poetry is war
- todd moore | scorched trinity: dillinger, billie, and machine gun love
- todd moore | what’s
- todd moore | gary goude | blood on blood
- todd moore | i write in the blood
- todd moore | writing dillinger in the eye of the hurricane
- todd moore | blood calls to blood
- todd moore | dynamite
- todd moore | blind whiskey and the straight razor blues
- todd moore | outlaw poetry, psychic damage, the survival of wounds
- todd moore | parker shot
- todd moore | living at the movies with dillinger and depp
- todd moore | coming out of…
- todd moore | jerry’s old
- todd moore | dancing in the fire with s.a. griffin
- todd moore | walking around in the blood
- todd moore | lucky
- todd moore | damage, genius, courage
- todd moore | saturday night desperate, don winter, and the black mitten of poetry
- todd moore | dave roskos, the editor’s editor
- todd moore | the outlaw poet and those killer eyes
- todd moore | patrick mckinnon and the drunken shamanic
- todd moore | writing poetry, burning the house
- todd moore | tyler’s
- todd moore | how to survive the coming night: the poetry of john yamrus
- todd moore | the rat’s blood had glued my hand shut
- todd moore | cold fire, molten ice
- todd moore & john macker
- todd moore | dreaming the dream, paying the price
- todd moore | writing with your wounds: a reading of the broken and the damned by jason hardung
- todd moore | the central avenue rundown jazz radio show
- todd moore | burning
- todd moore | dying with dillinger in the corpse is dreaming
- todd moore | a conversation with raindog
- todd moore | billy the kid in the theater of blood
- todd moore
- todd moore | all the dark talking to the angel of death
- todd moore | geeshie wiley
- todd moore | the nightmare talking
- todd moore | the last good movie I made was a poem
- todd moore | and the gunfight at dodge city
- todd moore | everything changes when dillinger arrives
- todd moore | reading the movies, watching the poems
- todd moore | that terrible shaking in the blood
- todd moore | outlaw poetry
- todd moore | the exalted scar and the annointed cure
- todd moore | machine guns, guernica, and the outlaw poem
- todd moore | road testing the kid
- todd moore | outlaw
- todd moore | dillinger posed
- todd moore | instructions for reading dead reckoning
- todd moore | death rides the blood
- todd moore | the fever of writing
- todd moore | shadow of the outlaw
- todd moore | largo slapped
- todd moore | into the open madness: the poetry of kell robertson
- todd moore | the fevers and sweats of the nightmare poem
- todd moore | what I want to know
- wolfgang carstens | todd moore | boom
- todd moore | going to meet the outlaw
- lawrence goeckel | three christmas still lifes
- todd moore | pure blood primal: the poetry of kell robertson
- todd moore | gary goude and that crushed rotting dawg
- todd moore | the dark side of america
- todd moore | jack wilson
- todd moore | fighting death for the poem
- todd moore | the blood of the poet
- todd moore | just before
- todd moore | shotgun blues
- alex gildzen | street of poets tucson
- todd moore | washed in the blood of the outlaw moon
- todd moore | scratching it out street level for the poem
- todd moore | nightmare frenzy
- mera wolf & todd moore | read
- todd moore | the gold cane, van gogh’s ear, and the gun in the casket: wandering down this crooked road
- todd moore | las montanas de santa fe: visions of the spirit country
- todd moore | chasing jack micheline’s shadow
- todd moore | crudely mistaken for life: the books of wounds
- todd moore | black rain
- todd moore | doing shots with ben smith in air à boire
- todd moore | glistening with blood | a bellyfull of anarchy by rob plath
- tony moffeit | a man on fire
- todd moore | the sea, the poem, and the house of all possible myths: the poetry of milner place
- todd moore | the sign of the outlaw
- todd moore | the nightmare of reading
- tony moffeit | american blues outlaw poetry anarchic dream
- todd moore | what haunted
- todd moore | inventing the nightmare
- todd moore | love, longing, dillinger, disaster
- todd moore | dillinger stepped
- todd moore | stories, ashes, and fire
- todd moore | night blood, red hands
- todd moore | the bank…
- mark weber | for todd moore’s birthday party
- todd moore | devouring the shadow
- wolfgang carstens | for todd moore
- todd moore | tasting the blood
- todd moore | the house
- kell robertson | the goofy goddess on the wall
- todd moore & dennis gulling | shotgun weather
- tony moffeit | scorching the darkness: the channeling of dillinger














2 Comments
August 9th, 2009 at 1:16 am
Lawrence,
You’ve explored places in my work and in Riddle that few others have barely thought about. I am deeply honored by this essay.
Todd
February 7th, 2010 at 9:01 pm
Wow, Larry, I love this: “The gun also inhabits and serves as a symbol for the spirit world.” It’s a little far-fetched, but in a good way. I love the idea, and the thought of it. A great insight, Larry. Wow.
I wonder if those of us in the literary world get bogged down too much with the idea of metaphor?
Maybe the words should just be the words of what they are saying?
……..just a thought.
I’m still of the school that a gun is a gun. Simply a metaphor for crazy violence. I love Todd’s stuff for how real it is, even as it is unreal, you know?
[Note: Most of us don't use the branding "the land of enchantment" here in New Mexico -- that albatross was hung around our necks by some silly chamber of commerce hucksters and we can't shake it. We all cringe when we hear it.]
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