Cheap Motels of My Youth

by George Bilgere

In Cheap Motels of My Youth, George Bilgere continues his explorations, both funny and poignant, of modern life in America. The collection deals loosely with the subjects of divorce, sexuality, and American culture from the 1950s to today. The poems vary in tone from the fairly serious to the reflective and meditative, to the wryly comic. Bilgere is a writer who will risk wild laughter in poems that are totally heartfelt, that delight in the twists and turns of the glorious American language.

Genres: Poetry, Memoir

40 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2024

About the author

Billy Collins once commented that poet George Bilgere "has shown that imaginative wonders and deep emotional truths can be achieved with plain, colloquial American speech." Bilgere has done so in his six collections of poetry, most recently "Imperial" (Pitt Poetry Series). His numerous awards include the May Swenson Poetry Award and a Pushcart Prize. A professor of English at John Carroll University in Cleveland, he is also host of the public radio program WORDPLAY, an offbeat mix of poetry and comedy.

Reviews

[Elizabeth Wolf · Rating 5 out of 5]

I knew when I saw George Bilgere announced as a Rattle chapbook winner that this was going to be good. And it is. George writes with grace, precision, and humor. I have dog-eared many pages and I would pull some grand quotes if I could find where I stashed the book. But I didn't want to hesitate to get this review up and encourage y'all to dive in. Highly recommend.

[Emmy · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful collection that I fell right into. Was very sad that it was only a chapbook and therefore over far too quickly, but I absolutely loved it. Will probably start reading again from the beginning tonight. Bilgere truly gets better and better.

[Lenora Good · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was a gift. The giver has my undying love! From the first poem, “Nine” which begins, “I am standing by the pop machine / at the gas station, drinking a root beer.” I was pulled in. I was nine, once, and loved root beer. I relate to this kid who brought back happy childhood memories.

“Daddy” really grabbed me. It begins, “Pallas Athena took my poetry course / one summer a few years back,” gave me chuckles. As a veteran of the Women’s Army Corps, I was somewhat familiar with Pallas Athena, and the mental image of her taking a poetry course under an alias, well it was a chuckle out loud moment.

His poem, “Insult to Injury” has one of my favorite lines ever, “…Holding a pistol / is like shaking hands / with death.” His description farther down the poem of shooting a book brought another laugh out loud.

This book holds many insights into how Bilgere saw his youth into adulthood, which he brings full circle with the last poem, “Salad.” It begins describing his parents in their back yard before he was born and ends with him repeating the scene in his own life.

These poems are accessible. No deep, hidden meaning (at least I didn’t see any), the language is understandable, the poems are easy to read, and I dare say, most if not all readers will find poems they connect with, that will bring long lost and possibly forgotten happy childhood memories in their lives, to the fore.

[Jimmy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Here is my favorite:

Avocados

My son comes into the kitchen
and asks if he can have an avocado.

A vo ca do, he says, loving the weight
of each green syllable on his tongue.

Avocados represent an immense step
for him, an evolutionary leap

far beyond the narrow confines
of cornflakes, wherein
he has dwelt for so long. The breast,
the cornflake, the avocado:
such has been his journey, thus far.

You’ll have to wait
until they’re ripe, I tell him.
Want some cornflakes instead?
No thanks, he says, and wanders back
into the world of being five, while I—
I’m doing the dishes at this point—

I start thinking about ripening
and how glad I am that it takes time,

and his own ripening
will be years in the making. Years,
I say aloud, enjoying that long,
luxurious syllable, like a cat
stretching out on my tongue,

as Michael comes in again,
it’s been five minutes,
and asks, Are they ripe yet?

No, not quite yet.
Want some cornflakes in the meantime?

That’s OK, he says. I’ll wait.

​

—from Cheap Motels of My Youth

[Alarie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is my seventh book by George Bilgere, what more can I possibly say? (My friends already know he’s my favorite poet, and it’s not an insult to them since I have a long list of poets I regard as 5-star.) If the hotel stays of his youth had been 5 star, I dare say he
wouldn’t be half as good. He carries his wounds proudly and can juggle nostalgia, worry, tenderness, and laugh-out-loud moments in a single poem. I began my Bilgere readings before he had two little boys, who have made his writing more tender and him more worried about age.

I never quote much from a chapbook, but the first poem, “Nine,” is the perfect set up
for all that follows. He is hanging out by the pop machine at a gas station and thinks,

“….Actually I feel sorry
for grown-ups, with their neckties,
their dark jackets, and serious talk….
How am I supposed to know
that an old, white-haired guy,
a grown-up, is watching me
from his desk in the future…”

[Dorothy Mahoney · Rating 5 out of 5]

The second last poem in this collection ends: "as the day/ dwindles and their cigarettes/ flare like stars, it looks/ as if happiness can start/ a small fire anywhere." Many of these poems spark small fires. Bilgere knows backyards and the sounds and smells of a summer spent grilling. This is a celebration of happiness in changing a morning routine to the train station, watching a pregnant woman multitasking, and using the 'misting' setting on the garden hose. Many of the poems take one step back into the past and then step forward: his parents in 1948 in "Salad" become the present as he
grills hamburgers and his wife makes a salad; in "Front Page" his grandparents purchase the table
where his family is now reading the newspaper and enjoying pancakes and syrup; and in "I Heard a Fly Buzz" he recounts misreading the clock by an hour and how he has saved this hour for the future.
The poems like avocados, in the poem by the same name, ripen slowly with each reading.

[B.A. Sise · Rating 5 out of 5]

25 March 2024

I picked up this book excited to hate it because, you see, it was a winner in a contest that I also entered but it won and I didn't and one of life's simple little joys is reading the things that you lost and somebody else won and to understand the true merits: that it wasn't because you were lacking but because the people in charge, as they so often do, have no taste.

This book was, to that end, an absolute disappointment: masterfully crafted, a twenty minute read- you couldn't even cook dinner in the time it takes to get from one end to the other- and so small a packaging of the entirety of a life that it might as well be the contents of an urn, upturned usefully into the hydrangeas.

It's clever without being pointedly so, reminiscent without being either wistful or wishful, and full of pieces tied with bows so tidy you'd think he'd sent it out to be professionally gift-wrapped.

It seems, alas, that the satisfaction of others' errors will have to wait for another day.

[Sue · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like this chapbook. I like these poems. Many of them made me smile, a few brought a tear, and all of them took me back to earlier times when life seemed so much simpler. Bilgere has published eight poetry collections so far, and his poems show the skilled hand of a pro. The cheap motel he describes in “Cheap Motels of My Youth,” where he stayed while interviewing for a job in the middle of nowhere, brings me back to some less than stellar lodgings I have occupied. “Chance of getting the job/one in a hundred. Lip-sticked/cigarette butt under the bed./Toilet seat with its paper band,/”Sanitized for Your Protection,” dead roach floating in the bowl.” Now I need to go find those other eight collections.

[Antonia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a short chapbook by George Bilgere, who was a recent winner of a Rattle Chapbook contest. Bilgere has previously published several full-length poetry collections. Bilgere has an amazing facility to capture life in contemporary America for the middle-aged and middle-class. His work is imaginative, emotional, and humorous. A great delight to read. My husband — who doesn’t generally read poetry — has now and then settled down in his chair to read a few Bilgere poems and I’m always amused and pleased to hear his appreciative chuckles.

The chapbook is available directly from Rattle.com.

[Peggy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Cheap Motels of My Youth. Bilgere's poems are multi-dimensional, funny, even profound. They remind me of small sci-fi stories in which the main character acts out commands built into his genes, his ancestors live so closely within him: "There I am // for a flash, an instant, and there / is my grandfather, my great- / great-grandfather..." (Dreamer). This was my introduction to Bilgere; it won't be my last meeting with him.

[Valentine Storms · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've never read any of Bilgere's work before and this chapbook was an imaginative and devourable introduction. It is the perfect blend of wry humor and americana despair that left me reading my favorites to everyone from my not remotely interested in poetry fiance to hostage professors at office hours.

[Bruce Cline · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the best collection of poetry I’ve read in quite some time. I love the way Bilgere thinks, or at least the way he writes regardless of whatever he thinks. Have already ordered three more volumes of his work, setting myself up for an extended period of bliss or, possibly, severe depression from unfulfilled expectations.

[K.T. · Rating 5 out of 5]

This chapbook is a delight from start to finish. From the pitch-perfect gem “Nine” which opens it, George Bilgere’s subject is time, and he approaches it with clearly-eyed deftness in poems that are unsentimental but deeply moving.

[Joel Glover · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a wonderful collection, wandering between beautiful nostalgic pieces about loss, smartly crafted words on parenting and growth, and the mildly scabrous "Minutes" which I immediately circulated to friends who suffer through too many meetings.

[Michelle Rynkewicz · Rating 5 out of 5]

I felt connected to most of the poems in this book, especially the one titled “Multitasking”.

Some of the poems ended rather strangely, but that seems to be the point, and I like it while also finding it uncomfortable.

[William Harrington · Rating 5 out of 5]

Narrative in the form of poetry. I gather insights and understanding, enjoying each poem as it is read.

[LoriO · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this chapbook; a few got a startled or amused laugh out of me, their turn unexpected and yet apt.

[Apina_lukee_kirjoja · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh, I love this little book! So much light, hope, comfort sprinkled with the heavier side of life, and with truth. What a haven to read.

[Amy in the Desert · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poems with a wonderful way of looking at the world.

[Nicholas Grooms · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredibly insightful and touching. Definitely a great quick read. Favorite poems: “Where will you go when you die?”, “Avocados” and “multitasking”.

[Charles M · Rating 4 out of 5]

In this collection Bilgere still finds a vein of joy in the mundane . His poems are always wry and often moving . A book for re-reading .

[Svetlana Sterlin]

How am I supposed to know /
that an old, white-haired guy, /
a grown-up, is watching me /
from his desk in the future, /
writing down every move I make. /
Why would anybody even do that?

[Erica Martin · Rating 5 out of 5]

A new favorite.

[John · Rating 2 out of 5]

A little disappointing, the only poem that really hit me was "Archaic Poet Listens to Bach" the rest just seemed a little bland.

[Tia Credle · Rating 5 out of 5]

A great introduction to George Bilgere and I am amazed by his voice, language, and imagery. I love this collection!

[Vin · Rating 4 out of 5]

These are some really good poems. Some of them are even bad ass.