In x , Dan Chelotti conjures voices that wander, pause, analyze, articulate, attempt to enlighten, fail to enlighten, and then answer that failure with laughter. The wildly inventive imagery in these cinematic pieces lodges them somewhere between the surreal and the pure symbol, colorful and smooth like the lyrics of John Ashbery or Linda Pastan. In Chelotti’s poems, diamonds talk and sheriffs balance frogs on the tips of pens.
The rain says, Listen to Debussy, go ahead, Debussy will fix you. —From “Migraine Cure”
The secret to including everything is to intricately divide your mind and then, all of a sudden, undivide it. —From “Still Life on a Scrolling Background”
I had seen a lot of Dan Chelotti before I picked up x. I had seen Dan Chelotti's haikus on McSweeney's and even read an interview on McSweeney's about x. I was intrigued by his response about the title:
"x was actually a mistake. An x is what a teacher puts on your quiz when you answer incorrectly. But it is also a variable. I sent my manuscript to a friend and it didn’t have a title, so I put an x. He sent it to you guys, and you read it as x, and you got in touch with me wanting to publish x. But x is not the title, I cried! It’s a variable! But you loved it. And I thought about it, and I started to love it, too. x marks the spot. x is the lover you don’t love anymore (or maybe you do). x tells me this is poison. x is a kiss. x is everywhere. I once read that the little bit of distortion in Radiohead’s “Creep” was a studio error. But that little bit of distorted guitar before the chorus turns a good song into a great one. I wanted to embrace the world with these poems, and what better way than to embrace a fortunate and fated misunderstanding?"
I had mostly forgotten about Chelotti's x until Andrew Sullivan posted his poem "Friendship". At that point, I knew I had to get my hands on this book somehow. Just a few days ago, I did, and it was better than I expected. I readily admit that I have to go back and read these poems again to fully understand their meanings. But the great thing is that I'm fully willing to. Chelotti has an exquisite way with words and comes up with a number of interesting concepts for poems.
I fully endorse this collection and am looking forward to going through it again and again.
The poem structure is not incredibly complicated, which provides ready access to the scenes in the poems, but still provides ample space for ideas and a good amount of humor. For me, this was a page-turner. Accessibility may not always be a good thing for a book of poetry, but in this case, it worked for me.
Here is one of the many poems I enjoyed.
MAGIC
The mechanic says I have a great ear for cars, but no ear for music. I don't ask how he knows or say the grease smudges on his hands look fake. I walk away like one who has three hours to kill in a strange town walks away. There is a cemetery in which I try to ignore a headache. A phone booth with a phonebook but no phone. A corner store that has only rumors of ibuprofen. These things happen and I always think the universe will show me another path. Why do I expect magic only when things break down? I would love a bath-- a bath and a hamburger.
I don't read poetry very often because I try to read it like literary fiction or detective novel; expecting to find links between them since the author or editor connected them in a linear manner of book structure. Once I allow my head to get out of this order of reading I really enjoy poetry and find myself allowing to open the book and read and absorb the imagery created or the emotional response then flip through to find another; instead of marching through them as they are laid out in front of me.
"A Perfectly Good Ottoman" "November" "Dead Guy Pants" "The Giantess Is Coming"
Maybe you can tell from those titles, there's a good bit of humor in these poems. There are also very simple, honest admissions, like "I don't really want / the things I want," which feel earned. The poems are all similar in form and voice, but the voice is so likable, it propelled me through the book. Read this if you want to make a new friend.
I like the images and the references that Dan Chelotti engages with in some of his poems. From playing off of William Carlos Williams' "To Elsie" to a poem called "Walt Whitman's Sweater", he turns some beautiful phrases and images. One of my favorites being the homage to Williams in the last line, "O merciful God, I do not want to drive the car".
Beautiful. I truly enjoying reading all of these poems. The last two were especially moving for me. I left notes for myself and will definitely be coming back to reread soon.