Gary Fincke, The Days of Uncertain Health (Lynx House Press, 1988)
I'm a rabid fan of Gary Fincke's work, and The Days of Uncertain Health, Fincke's first full-length collection, has done nothing to dissuade me. These are well-drawn, fully-realized works, more mature than one might expect from a first collection. A bit on the gloomy side, but I like that sort of thing.
“Everything smells of slime, Our lives caught under rocks While the sun vacations In the North. Unsuited To this reptile's climate, We are slack and sullen, Should be amphibious, Our evolution turned back To accommodate these times.
'Dark, dark,' Aaron says And resists his nap. Just beneath the surface Of this temporary creek Reasonable days are being Held without air.” (“Dark, Dark”)
(For the music fans among you, the Aaron noted in the poem is now the guitarist for rock band Breaking Benjamin.)
Solid stuff, deep and rich and loamy, the kinds of poems I return to again and again over the years. This is one to keep somewhere you can reach it at all times. ****