Gaspereau Press has long produced beautiful books, their covers gorgeously textured, unspoiled by blurbs, and, within, an array of solidly crafted poems.
Marco Melfi’s Routine Maintenance is no exception. Most of the pieces in this debut are “thing” lyrics, one-page descriptors of screen doors, winter tires, alarm clock radios or balloons, while others are depictions of people as still lives held in the amber eye of attentiveness: a soccer coach, a cobbler, a sound tech, hockey dads and a neighbour who grossly horks like “a lawn mower’s false start… a yolky lime slug” (“The Neighbour’s Loogie”). Thing poems, otherwise known by the German term Dinggedicht (as coined by scholar Kurt Oppert), are a type of verse developed in the 19th century in which objects are not merely depicted but also personified or described in a language that seems innate to that tool, structure or natural entity. Rilke’s “Archaic Torso of Apollo” (1908) is one early example, and poet Kayla Czaga also utilizes this mode in poems such as “The Hairbrush,” from her 2024 collection Midway.
I thoroughly enjoyed Marco Melfi’s debut poetry collection Routine Maintenance. The poems are beautiful and nostalgic, funny and profound in equal measures.
The unrhymed poems wander through the many permutations of the free verse form, sometimes with very short two- or three-line stanzas, sometimes in one longer block. The tone of the poems is both musical and practical. I find this collection very personal, yet universal; a glimpse into the everyday, but examined with an eye both discerning and amused at the peculiarities of what we call “normal.” Each poem is a glimpse into ordinary moments made extraordinary through the grace of the poet’s vision.
I’d highly recommend this collection to admirers of poetry, as well as to non-poetry readers looking to find a little extra magic brought into their daily experiences. In a literary market often suffused with explorations of suffering and pain, this collection was truly a breath of fresh air to read.