CONTESTED TERRAIN captures the myriad identities inside a veteran shaped by birth, geography and, later, a set of experiences that belie any hand-me-down wisdom. "Cave Country" sees the green, fertile surface give way as the illusion collapses beneath the speaker's feet; in "Desert Skies," a barrage of war images hit faster than the speaker can process them; and "Returning to the Hill Country" shows the altered landscape, both physical and mental, that awaits his return. The final section, "A Handful of Dust" shifts from the individual to the culture of fear that has become a new, uncomfortable normal. Gray's speakers still believe that beauty exists-often in an uneasy coexistence with tension, hypervigilance, and an ever-changing consciousness.
We are the publisher, so all of our authors get five stars from us. Excerpts:
DOMESTIC DOGS RUNNING LOOSE
No one seems to understand what dogs at night are chasing, if the night itself will turn these dogs to something wild with longer teeth, a keener smell.
Four sets of amber eyes peer out from a copse of cedar trees betrayed by headlight beams. A driver turning on an ess-shaped curve ignores the sight his headlights catch, sweeping
through a neighbor’s field, exposing them. A fool ignores these wild domestics, thinking a collar a sign of domesticity. “Lock your fence, and keep ’em fed, your dogs won’t run.”
But there’s the corpse of a calf now rotting on the furthest hill, a chicken found outside its coop, a smaller dog—a neighbor’s terrier that bolted one night, long after dinner
scraps were scraped. It ran through the yard into the woods and never was seen again. These bodies lay uneaten, an urge that’s deeper than reason. Driving to Fort Hood, a night without sleep has left me red-eyed awake. My mind is running across fencerows. I drive on autopilot where a formation of troops waits, where, still, it is dark. Without thinking, I count
soldiers who stand waiting for the clock to strike at six, for the cannon fire. There’s forty here, which means for now that no one has been arrested for answering the call of a human wild, where clubs
sell booze to minors sporting fresh tattoos they purchased with a payday loan. And all of them, for one night, avoided fighting the enemy outside the gates. It would be easy to claim some speech I said still lingered in their minds. But traveling the darkest fields where roads and headlights never reach, the message seems to take a twisting path that reason can’t.
ASYMPTOTE
It’s when we lie awake at night the darkness rises almost to our skin and, if we’re still, we quiet the fictive beasts of our anxieties, feel it sprawl, and now it’s not so wild. The night has taken nearly human form; and we, so spent from worry, push against the room, find nothing pushing back—a thought that comforts us. With that, the beastly sounds begin to vanish. We roll over, cool, and let the night cover us; the moon and stars almost touch our skin.
I bought this book after listening to an excellent presentation by D.A. Gray at the Poetry Society of Texas Summer Conference. Many of these poems are quietly powerful. They do not punch you in the gut but settle into the psyche. The prompting of a cascade of thoughts is one basis of poetry and Gray is an education in himself.
Many of the poems are thoughts or reflections of Gray as a former soldier. If you have been in combat, you may discover deeper levels to his words but you do not have to be a veteran to appreciate this work. Likewise, these poems may strike you at a visceral level. You need not be an academic to appreciate the craft of sestina or villanelle.
I have not read enough contemporary poetry. It's been over thirty years since I got my masters in poetry and I am still concentrating on the 20th century. Gray's is a potent voice to discover in this new millennium.
So many dog-eared pages, so many lines underlined. His childhood poems, such as "Chicken Tree" and "Lime," took me back to mine (I grew up in the country, t00). Then, he took me to war. Gray shares the experiences of the soldier, the nurse, and the veteran grappling with memories, pain, and how to return "normal" life, whatever that is. He brought me back again to live in a neighborhood not unlike my own and contemplates the contradictions that exist within himself and all of us; the struggle between what we think and trying to be aware of what those thoughts mean about the person who thinks them. Nature, whether a desert half a world away or the wilds just beyond the perimeter of the backyard, is always present. Masterful, powerful, painful, and beautiful. Above all, true.