I dont usually rate/review poetry on here because i dont think its entirely possible. How do you summarize a collection of poems and essays in such a short space?
'Cowboy Poetry Matters' is a collection of contemporary cowboy writing, with an incredible title that references Dana Gioia's essay 'Can Poetry Matter?', which is included towards the end of the book.
I have been chipping away at this for a couple of weeks during slow shifts (and am currently writing this review hunched behind a pastry display case, trying to hide my phone from the watchful gaze of customers), and there have been moments when ive had to ring someones iced latte up with tears in my eyes. Particularly there was one instant, when after reading Linda Mccarriston's 'Le Coursier De Jeanne D'Arc' that a customer hesitated in front of the counter when walking into the store, tiny toddler in hand, and asked me if i was alright. I dismissed her concern, blaming it on the dust or the espresso grounds in the air, and she continued her shopping while i fought back tears. How could i, with my best customer service smile, recite to her the line ''Because you know that story, so old that story, the routine story, carried to its extreme, of the cruelty that can make of what a woman hears a silence'', without bursting into tears immediately. The symbolism that they burned her horse first- ''she had no son for them to burn, for them to take from her in the world not of her making and put to its pyre''- its so genuine and heartbreaking. A deep connection with ones horses is often stated in cowboy poetry: in Paul Zarzyski's 'Buck' he writes in the beginning, ''The December my horse died, I did not go to midnight mass to celebrate with a single sip of wine Christs birth.'' And the. he goes on to recall a story of a time said horse got spooked, and how he ''left me on all fours as he did on that Christmas- high-lonesomed, hurt, and howling not one holy word toward the bones.'' Theres another poem or post that i cant quite remember the exact wording of, but i remember that it was a grandfather speaking about his horse from when he was young. When prompted about what the horses name was, the grandfather said ''Just a horse. My horse.'' Or something along those lines.
It reminds me of the horse we had when i was younger. I dont quite remember her name, sandy or brownie or some other name thats been given to pets for decades. I didnt like her all that much, didnt like horses in general. My younger sister attended to her much more then i did, and i would often watch her through the living room window, walking sandy and her foal through the little corrall we had in the front yard. There was one day when i was alone in the house and particularly melancholy, so i decided to visit her. Her foal shied away from me, wary of someone he didnt know- but sandy, to my surprise, let me walk right up to her and pet her nose. Theres something about horses when you get right up close to them- their large, dark eyes, their long eyelashes, their warm skin pressed against your palm- it makes you feel understood. It makes you feel like they can read your mind, or understand your words, or like they somehow connect with you in some insurmountable, unspeakable way.
Anyways, this collection was incredible. This review doesnt have much of substance, nothing more then my strange feelings about horses, but still, if youre reading this, at least read Dana Gioia's essay 'Can Poetry Matter?' and Linda Mccarriston's 'Le Coursier De Jeanne D'Arc', which are my two favorite pieces in this book. Also, 'What The Falcon Said' by Linda M. Hasselstrom, which is also just an incredible poem.
Im ending this with the same line that the poetry section of the book ended on:
'-not one speck of simplistic myth
between us and the west that was, sometimes
still is, and thus will be
forever and ever, amen.'
(One Sweet Evening Just This Year, by Paul Zarzyski)