Book reviewed by Jake Letkemann…
17 September 2008—Winnipeg, Manitoba
Reverend Jake Letkemann of Winnipeg has written a book review…
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Gray Matter Graffitti
By Sam W. Reimer
Robert L. Peters, ed.
Circle Design Inc., 214 pages
$16.00
First, a note of gratitude. If Lawrence Klippenstein had not asked me to review this book of some 200 short poems, I would have been bereft of considerable pleasure, some inspiration and at times befuddlement! Thanks, Lawrence.
Secondly, a disclaimer. You probably expect a review. When Lawrence requested that, I referred him to a contemporary poet and English professor, but he quickly compromised and agreed to settle for some “impressions” or something like that. What you get here is not a thorough book review, but some impressions and observations.
The poems were written during several decades, as Reimer born in 1949 in Steinbach, Manitoba, lived in this province, in the state of Kansas, in British Columbia, did various types of work including working for the Winnipeg Supply and Fuel Company, a spell with a railway section crew and writing for Maranatha Free Press in Vancouver, married, had two children, was divorced and now lives alone in Vancouver. His comment about the poems is pertinent. He writes in part, “Some are autobiographical, some fictitious, some more serious, some angrier… some elegies, some eulogies, and some just plain better than others.” (p.5) Peters has grouped them under eight helpful headings.
“The Relay” (pp. 44-45) is a fine example of vivid description of a rustic scene. As a farmer’s plow disturbs a home of young rabbits, a hawk spies a meal. As it swoops down
hawk is surprised by first one then
both of them–the parents of the small prey.
Dashing, leaping, lunging, two bodies possessed
by a passion of blood, they race this relay
of life and death. The hunter can’t
land long enough even to kill quickly, or
for a morsel torn off on his way. Wherever
he would touch down, one or the other
sudden warrior is right there,
blazing acute angles, incisors poised like blades
until the hawk gives up and the rabbits soothe their young.
A sketch of a rabbit accompanies the poem. Many poems are enhanced by either sketches or photographs.
Reimer and his wife separated in 1981. The poem, “July 10, 1981″ (p. 98) is an example of an autobiographical poem loaded with poignant memories. Here is part of it.
. . . .
You & I stood on the gravel
shoulder at a corner of crossroads
in the cloudless noontime daze
& held each other in what
you will’d our
last embrace…
. . . .
In the mountainous noontime hush
a stranger stepp’d on board the bus
a steel door seal’d the end of us.
Reimer toys with a variety of styles. “4 one who” (p.115) illustrates one of these styles where he carefully arranges words and letters to enhance the feeling of aloneness. A sketch of a caged bird accompanies the poem.
4 one who
dotes on
sol
i
tude
i
sure do hate
2
wake or dine
al
one
i
sure do hate
my
by
myself
self.
2
bloody much
of my
time
“The Uni-Point: A Novelty” (p. 163) is a frivolous, playful thing using “point” sixteen times, punning on the different meanings. “To Certain Politicians” (U Know Who U R) (p.147) is a bitter attack by the speaker on some politicians ending with,
Slugs & worms
don’t make me sick—
U do.
One is often reminded of other poets and poems. For example, “First Snowfall in the Forest” for kids & critters (p. 137) reminds one of Robert Frost’s, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” However, the apparent simple description in Frost’s poem leads to a philosophical observation, whereas Reimer’s remains pleasantly light as though intended for “kids and critters.”
Several war poems (examples on pp. 149-153) illustrate the speakers’ impatience with war and violence. However, unlike Wilfred Owen’s powerful poems gurgling with blood and bitterness, Reimer’s poems remain more satirical and light in both style and content. For example at the end of “Freedom March: A Novelty,” where recruits are drilled with repetetive, “2 3 4″ as they “march for freedom,” one innocent young recruit is finally permitted a question and he asks:
Sir, why can’t we dance
for
Freedom?
I’m tempted to continue, but nobody would print it, and if they did, you wouldn’t read to the end. Therefore get the book and feast on the real thing!
.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Jake Letkemann

