“These poems are a kid in an empty house. The quiet, unaffected simplicity reminded me of Bukowski when he wasn’t trying to be Bukowski.”—Alan ten-Hoeve, Notes from a Wood-Paneled Basement
Jon Berger lives in rural Michigan. He is the author of the short story collection Goon Dog.
Devoured on a long train ride and wow this is exactly what I wanted. Berger’s Saint Lizard is grit>pretension and heart>artifice. It makes my younger semi-rural self happy to hear there is hope in life aside from hating life and work, or the espousal of the two. Marvelous poetry that can easily turn into short stories with extra work. Love the characters & narrative voice. Definitely a gem in my eyes.
“Some city people / don’t know places like this exist / But they do exist / And those places are where I’m from”
Across all the poems in Jon Berger’s Saint Lizard, there is a sense of exile, of being marked in some way and isolated because of it. Sometimes it feels like a prison sentence and sometimes it almost feels like a badge of honor. Some poems are laugh out loud absurd. Some are grim and haunted. All are unforgettable.
The pieces that stood out to me most were the longer poems, the ones that feel like flash fiction with line breaks. But the shorter ones work here too. They punctuate the collection, often delivering a counterpuntal final line that lands like a gut shot or an uppercut.