Past All Traps
Copyright © 2011 by Don Wentworth. All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles. The cover shows a rendering of a 19th century bronze Tibetan figurine depicting the Citipati (Lords of the Cemetery). Layout: MSB 6GP83 ISBN 978-1-926616-26-1 Six Gallery Press P.O. Box 90145 Pittsburgh, PA 15224 www.sixgallerypress.com
Acknowledgments: Some of the poems in this collection appeared, occasionally in a slightly different form, in the following publications: bear creek haiku, bottle rockets, Cotyledon, Encyclopedia Destructica, The Margarine Maypole Orangutan Express, Modern Haiku Mockersatz, The New Yinzer, Penny Dreadful Review, Pigs in a Pamphlet, Rolling Stone, and the anthologies Prairie Smoke: The Pueblo Poetry Project and To Life: Occasions of Praise.
Several unknown creatures appear in this book and we are better off for having met them. After all, if poets cannot introduce us to something new, shouldn’t they take up badminton? Wentworth embraces what he finds in this split second we call living, in the moment that is sometimes like a knot on a string — you feel the bump but die string goes on.
In these poems Buddha drops in on a corporate meeting, Isaiah has a cameo, the tree of heaven (ailanthus) appears twice, death is never that far away, Issa channels a question through Wentworth, and the poet addresses the reader more than thrice. What’s happening here? A curious spirit is happening. A human being is encountering the world, one on one, brushing the air with his “little legs,” leaving room for your little legs, too.
What draws me into this book is the poet’s incredible ability to pay very close attention to his discoveries, yet not say everything. He has a meticulous approach to his work, but nothing here is precious, praise be. Who knew honesty could be so welcoming? Ladies and gentlemen, we are being spoken to. Let’s put our big person panties on and engage the moment. Turn the page. — Carl Mayfield
Return to Sender
This is the postcard
you sent to remind yourself
that you have forgotten.