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Chronic
The first poetry collection by D. A. Powell since his remarkable trilogy of Tea, Lunch, and
Cocktails, a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award
so many of the best days seem minor forms of nearness
that easily falls among the dropseed: a rind, a left-behind
—from "no picnic"
In these brilliant new poems from one of contemporary poetry's most intriguing, singular voices, D. A. Powell strikes out for the farther territories of love and comes back from those fields with loss, with flowers faded, "blossom blast and dieback." Chronic describes the flutter and cruelty of erotic encounter, temptation, and bitter heartsickness, but with Powell's deep lyric beauty and his own brand of dark wit.
Cocktails, a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award
so many of the best days seem minor forms of nearness
that easily falls among the dropseed: a rind, a left-behind
—from "no picnic"
In these brilliant new poems from one of contemporary poetry's most intriguing, singular voices, D. A. Powell strikes out for the farther territories of love and comes back from those fields with loss, with flowers faded, "blossom blast and dieback." Chronic describes the flutter and cruelty of erotic encounter, temptation, and bitter heartsickness, but with Powell's deep lyric beauty and his own brand of dark wit.
79 pages, Hardcover
First published February 3, 2009
11 people are currently reading
562 people want to read
About the author
D.A. Powell
26 books321 followersD. A. Powell is the author of Tea, Lunch, Cocktails, Chronic and Useless Landscape, or A Guide for Boys, which received the National Book Critics Circle Award in Poetry in 2013.
Repast, Powell's latest, collects his three early books in a handsome volume introduced by novelist David Leavitt.
A recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts, Powell lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Follow D. A. Powell on Twitter: Powell_DA
Repast, Powell's latest, collects his three early books in a handsome volume introduced by novelist David Leavitt.
A recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts, Powell lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Follow D. A. Powell on Twitter: Powell_DA
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews
August 17, 2011
Jesus, this "barbershop talc" poem. It's about a certain type of overgroomed gay man, and it's so funny and brutal I want to quote the whole thing. The first line, "the only place left to shave is inside your ears," is right-off-the-bat really funny and suggestive: the gay addressee is advancing in years, maybe, and in denial about it. The line also implies a kind of tone-deafness or obtuseness.
OK and the last four lines:
"you serve yourself like a creamy dessert
smooth, remarkably smooth, somebody should cut you
again, dust you and serve you to the bride's stupid sister
stupid enough to believe you as sugar, counterfeit groom"
I love the "cut you" at the end, as in to cut an actor from a play or obviously to cut a cake. And then the "again" complicates things, suggesting this "iceprincess of a man" (Jesus) is in to being cut. I love the double meanings in "serve yourself" and "groom," and the way you can hear the stupid sister's voice in "sugar." It's all very precise and energetic.
That's a part of one short poem. Not all the poems are like this one, but it's typical of the book in that all the poems describe something approachable enough but reward close attention. It's better than Cocktails, which I really liked. That book seems almost like a prequel to this one with the C in its title. Also, Chronic reminds me of The Chronic by Dr. Dre, which might be intentional.
OK and the last four lines:
"you serve yourself like a creamy dessert
smooth, remarkably smooth, somebody should cut you
again, dust you and serve you to the bride's stupid sister
stupid enough to believe you as sugar, counterfeit groom"
I love the "cut you" at the end, as in to cut an actor from a play or obviously to cut a cake. And then the "again" complicates things, suggesting this "iceprincess of a man" (Jesus) is in to being cut. I love the double meanings in "serve yourself" and "groom," and the way you can hear the stupid sister's voice in "sugar." It's all very precise and energetic.
That's a part of one short poem. Not all the poems are like this one, but it's typical of the book in that all the poems describe something approachable enough but reward close attention. It's better than Cocktails, which I really liked. That book seems almost like a prequel to this one with the C in its title. Also, Chronic reminds me of The Chronic by Dr. Dre, which might be intentional.
February 2, 2013
D. A. Powell's verse succeeds through an animated lyricism and language that skates through pirouettes and the occasional triple toe loop to a kind of verbal joy in poems which seem to be mostly about the disappointments of love. Or, at least, love on the run. The poems in Chronic remind me a little of Whitman. Powell, though, writes more explicit homosexual themes. He uses the long line for the most part while achieving the lyrical rather than building toward anthems. Uncapped and unpunctuated as they are, and therefore appearing understated, they nevertheless throb with power while, at the same time, being fueled by a language of human and delicate beauty. Each poem is a ride you cling to. They're impressive fun.
April 26, 2011
I read D.A. Powell's Chronic slowly; I felt like I needed to savor the poems. I found myself making notations on many of the poems, trying to label what was going on in the craft. Such amazing work with such detailed craft: sound, word choice, line endings, syntax manipulation, capitalization, punctuation, white space, not to mention the subject matter and importance of his voice.
I feel like I can really learn a great deal from him as a poet, particularly because with all of the preciseness of his work, I feel like it is also extremely accessible and I can figure out what is going on. With some of the other poets I have read this past semester, I have been blown away by their craft, but I have not felt like I could crawl inside their poems as well.
I also found myself wanting to read his poems over and over again. One of my favorites is “no picnic.” I love how the spacing of the lines makes each line an isolated image, allowing those images to build in such a way that he can draw on the power of the list without actually having a recognizable list in the poem. When the lines do come closer together in lines five and six, line five ends with “nearness” so that the closeness of the lines magnifies that word choice. By the time we get to lines eight through ten, we are prepared for the turn, the revealing of the lover's fight, by all of the careful attention to sound and then the quietness of “I'd say that you did not see them, nor hear their anxious fuss” (line 9). And then line eleven ends with “we should not have been” with the white space filling with implications: should not have been a couple, should not have been there on that cool bank, should not have fought. The indentation of the lines, the lyrical attention to sound: it is an amazingly beautiful poem in respects to craft, subject matter, and even visually on the page. It takes my breath away. I definitely want to read his other books.
I feel like I can really learn a great deal from him as a poet, particularly because with all of the preciseness of his work, I feel like it is also extremely accessible and I can figure out what is going on. With some of the other poets I have read this past semester, I have been blown away by their craft, but I have not felt like I could crawl inside their poems as well.
I also found myself wanting to read his poems over and over again. One of my favorites is “no picnic.” I love how the spacing of the lines makes each line an isolated image, allowing those images to build in such a way that he can draw on the power of the list without actually having a recognizable list in the poem. When the lines do come closer together in lines five and six, line five ends with “nearness” so that the closeness of the lines magnifies that word choice. By the time we get to lines eight through ten, we are prepared for the turn, the revealing of the lover's fight, by all of the careful attention to sound and then the quietness of “I'd say that you did not see them, nor hear their anxious fuss” (line 9). And then line eleven ends with “we should not have been” with the white space filling with implications: should not have been a couple, should not have been there on that cool bank, should not have fought. The indentation of the lines, the lyrical attention to sound: it is an amazingly beautiful poem in respects to craft, subject matter, and even visually on the page. It takes my breath away. I definitely want to read his other books.
February 24, 2013
The subject matter in D. A. Powell's Chronic is often grim, serious: Section names call to mind illness ("Initial C," "Chronic," "Terminal C"), and homelessness and destruction to the environment reappear throughout the collection. And yet Powell does not use these poems as occasions to pump a fist into the air and rile the masses: They're poems. Artful. Crafted. He tips his hat to accepted norms of syntax and punctuation, even as he does his own thing--for example, leaving off punctuation that would occur at line breaks, to deliciously ambiguous effect. His ear (as opposed to reason) chooses his words (as in the first line of "congregation in glory": "gibber the portal, you waggle sly & avert your eye"). His poem about crabs is fun to read out loud ("all the armor plates cannot protect you, eremite").
Chronic does raise questions: Is Powell using all the tools of poetry to bridge the Derridean gap between poem and reader, to impart meaning? Is he waggling his nose at such earnestness in poetry? Does this "dichotomy" even exist these days?
Chronic does raise questions: Is Powell using all the tools of poetry to bridge the Derridean gap between poem and reader, to impart meaning? Is he waggling his nose at such earnestness in poetry? Does this "dichotomy" even exist these days?
February 22, 2010
Never before have I stayed up to finish reading a collection of poetry. Though I don't really understand three-fourths of the poems, there's something mesmerizing and captivating to the images, the turns of phrase. It's funny too.
December 27, 2010
Chronic illness, chronic pain, chronic life. This book, as its title suggests, is obsessed with time, and eros. A beautiful, edgy, important book. http://avl.arizona.edu/index.php?read...
May 27, 2013
Initial C, Terminal C, from sea to sea, this is D.A. Powell's America, encompassing all that is light and dark at once. Republic floored me.
November 20, 2019
I read this collection for my thesis on reception of Vergil's Eclogues in 21st century poetry. The last two poems "Corydon & Alexis" and "Corydon & Alexis, Redux" take after Vergil the most, being Powell's own version of Eclogue 2. Most of the poems in this collection describe Powell's experience with the AIDS crisis and his experience with disease and love. The last two poems combine all of these themes together. More than this, though, Powell writes about what does and doesn't last and endure. Very relevant to today's world whose days, due to the dangers of climate change, are numbered. What lasts is the tradition of humanity, saved in texts like these.
November 22, 2024
3.75 stars rounded up | My favorite poem of the collection:
he’s a maniac, maniac
by D.A. Powell
in the stanley kubrick movie of your life, you are an isolated man
going slowly mad in the drunken pillory of the snow
chasing a little version of your self with an axe
because that’s what every hour is doing: chasing you
vexing, isn’t it, how often you’ve tried to write your story
but the apparitions won’t let you, and the bottle calls
from the ballroom, whispers of every dead season
at the overlook hotel. it seems you’ve played this role before
why can’t you just have closure? it’s a horror movie, stupid
the villain returns: you are the villain: any second last thoughts
he’s a maniac, maniac
by D.A. Powell
in the stanley kubrick movie of your life, you are an isolated man
going slowly mad in the drunken pillory of the snow
chasing a little version of your self with an axe
because that’s what every hour is doing: chasing you
vexing, isn’t it, how often you’ve tried to write your story
but the apparitions won’t let you, and the bottle calls
from the ballroom, whispers of every dead season
at the overlook hotel. it seems you’ve played this role before
why can’t you just have closure? it’s a horror movie, stupid
the villain returns: you are the villain: any second last thoughts
August 13, 2018
Why has no one told me to read Powell? This is a dense book, full of ideas, craft, astonishing and well-timed vocabulary, honesty, cruel humor, sly wit. I love what he does with line breaks and space on the page, as well as sound and image. Paricularly enjoyed crematorium at sierra view cemetery next to the high school, clutch and pumps - so hilariously cruel, both poetic and painterly - sprig of lilac (wow), and coal of this unquickened world, but the whole collection is great. Fantastic titles, too, something I strive for and notice. Will definitely be reading more of him.
July 9, 2017
Impressive sculptures of ice.
August 9, 2020
So so so so so good!
May 21, 2025
'in a protracted stillness, I saw that the heron I didn't wish to disturb / was clearly a white sack caught in the redbud's limbs"
June 30, 2020
Though I like inventive imagery, these poems felt too abstract, without enough foundation to truly make their imagery work. They did weave well together as a collection, which offset some of this difficulty, but certainly not all of it.
Poems I would signal out are:
* crematorium at sierra view cemetery next to the high school
* continental divide
* gospel on the dial, with intermittent static
* meditating upon the meaning of the line "clams on the halfshell and rollerskates" in the song good times by chic
* centerfold
* for the coming pandemic
* cruel, cruel summer
Poems I would signal out are:
* crematorium at sierra view cemetery next to the high school
* continental divide
* gospel on the dial, with intermittent static
* meditating upon the meaning of the line "clams on the halfshell and rollerskates" in the song good times by chic
* centerfold
* for the coming pandemic
* cruel, cruel summer
September 18, 2010
LJ said of these poems, "read them to see where poetry is going." I don't know; I wasn't totally impressed. Then again I may not be impressed with where poetry is going.
The illness and sex and death just seemed like shabby worries, an anxiety that I wanted to dose with anxiolytics instead of poetry. All the poems end loosely, without punctuation, which felt affected.
Many had wonderful long titles, though. I would keep the titles as brief poems in themselves and nix the corpora:
"crematorium at sierra view cemetery next to the high school"
"[not the musical:] south pacific"
"the expiration date on the world is not quite the same as the expiration date on my prophylactic"
"cock on the radio"
One that had a poem-title but also a good remainder was "meditating upon the meaning of the line 'clams on the halfshell and rollerskates' in the song good times by chic" which you can listen to Powell reading here.
The illness and sex and death just seemed like shabby worries, an anxiety that I wanted to dose with anxiolytics instead of poetry. All the poems end loosely, without punctuation, which felt affected.
Many had wonderful long titles, though. I would keep the titles as brief poems in themselves and nix the corpora:
"crematorium at sierra view cemetery next to the high school"
"[not the musical:] south pacific"
"the expiration date on the world is not quite the same as the expiration date on my prophylactic"
"cock on the radio"
One that had a poem-title but also a good remainder was "meditating upon the meaning of the line 'clams on the halfshell and rollerskates' in the song good times by chic" which you can listen to Powell reading here.
October 8, 2010
I really wanted to like this, and I did at first. His talent is irrefutable, and when I felt him in more designy shoes, as in the more formalist poems in the opening pages, I connected more. But once he started engaging his subject matter, mostly, environmental and health devastation, I found the poems to move much less certainly, much too conscious of and forcing themselves toward the larger thematic concerns of the collection. Perhaps I'm biased against strong subjects in collections, but I'd almost rather read an essay than poems on these topics.
March 5, 2012
4.5 stars, to be more precise. This book didn't hit me quite as hard in the gut as Cocktails did, but Powell's poems in this collection are still both stunningly crafted and socially relevant— "california poppy" and "republic" were two of my favorites. I'm already looking forward to re-reading Chronic.
September 12, 2015
This is one of those books that makes me want to stop writing poetry all together because Powell's poems are so strong and well crafted without being pretentious or generic. These poems are witty and nuanced, and they pulled me back in to reread them a few times. There's so much going on here. Just a great collection.
April 25, 2012
as is to be expected from Powell, this book is entirely. worth. the. read.
classically-crafted and -informed, bodily, a little dirty (in all its meanings), often loving. there is no pretention, there is a ton of mastery, there is a lot, a lot of honesty.
classically-crafted and -informed, bodily, a little dirty (in all its meanings), often loving. there is no pretention, there is a ton of mastery, there is a lot, a lot of honesty.
March 28, 2009
Because I continue to love "Cocktails," the first Powell book I read, so wholly and utterly and so, I will like never love another book by him as well. It's abiding: this early devotion.
Want to read
May 6, 2010Reviewed by Powell's Review-a-Day
June 12, 2010
One of the best contemporary poets out there. Amazing use of language.
December 10, 2011
Not sure why I waited so long to read this after the CPR release party... new favorite !!
August 4, 2011
A master of line, each one straight-forward talk, a don't-play-with-me tone.
May 9, 2012
Most contemporary poetry is pretentious nonsense.
This may be the apotheosis of that tendency.
This may be the apotheosis of that tendency.
March 19, 2012
about half-way through he decided to quit bunting and start swinging...
December 30, 2013
Deeply interesting poetry, both in construction and subject matter. Very much worth re-reading after sitting with it for awhile. Powell is a poet to watch.
January 25, 2014
A book about endings, and our lack of them—"as if the stars go out when we shut our sleepy eyes"
July 17, 2015
"Daylight, don't leave me now, I haven't done with you --
Nor that, in this late hour, we still cannot make peace."
These poems are such a joy to read!
Nor that, in this late hour, we still cannot make peace."
These poems are such a joy to read!
July 15, 2016
hell. yeah.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 30 reviews