More Than This

Poems

David Kirby

• Publisher: LSU Press
• Year: 2019
• eBook ISBN: 9780807172063
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Poetry
• Index: Literature

More Than This, like David Kirby's previous acclaimed collections, is shot through with the roadhouse fervor of early rock 'n' roll. Yet these rollicking poems also contain an oceanic feeling more akin to the great symphonies of Europe than the two-minute singles of Little Richard and other rock pioneers, as Kirby seeks to startle, to please, to unwind the knots that we get ourselves into and make it possible to being anew. Little goes unnoticed in these poems: death is present, along with love, friendship, food, religious ardor and philosophical skepticism, nights on the town and quiet evenings at home. With More Than This, his twelfth collection, Kirby takes readers back in time and out in space, offering quiet wisdom and a sense of the endless possibilities that art and life give us all.

IV

MARY WEISS OF THE SHANGRI-LAS EXPLAINS IT ALL TO YOU

DEAR CHESTNUTS, FRENCH BABIES, STATUES, AND BEES

Luxembourg Gardens, Paris

Ow! You hurt when you hit me: it’s the spikes, sure, but also

the height you fall from. Yet I love the way you always split

into the same four pieces, the hull in thirds and then the nut.

What’s with the spikes, though? I know: so a dog won’t eat you

and take you home in his belly or a baby pick you up and throw

you at another baby and miss so that you land in the street

and are crushed by a passing car. Most French babies

are lazy, though some are not: you hard workers get behind

your own strollers and push them, head down, one leg

stretched out behind you, elbows locked as you strain like Sisyphus;

over the years, your destiny will take on muscle and sinew,

and even now it readies itself to roll backwards, flattening

you into a longer, thinner version of your baby self looking down

at your own baby, but, hey, at least you’re trying! Whereas

these statues are shiftless or maybe just smart—stay up on

those pedestals, boys! It’s not always so great down here.

As many of you are women as men, though: Margaret of Anjou,

Louise of Savoy, Anne Marie Louise of Orléans. Whoever

thought Louise would be such a popular name for queens?

Louise is a name for the lunchroom lady or your mom,

as is Blanche of Castile. It’s a good thing you were born

queens, because you wouldn’t have been able to vote

for yourselves till 1945. The babies I like most look like

cookies; you’re the ones with round heads and pug

noses, as though a baker stamped you out of cookie dough

and put you in an oven and pulled you out with a wooden

paddle when you were done. You’re all drunk: you lurch

from side to side with your mouths open, and you cry when you

don’t get your way. Some of you will be drunks when you

grow up, and sooner or later, you’ll all scream. Scream,

you screamers—let’s hear it! You’ll really scream if a bee

stings your little asses: here in the southeast corner

of the garden is the bee city, and look, here’s the shop

where I can buy honey from the bees, or rather from the people

who handle you bees’ money for you—imagine knowing

the tree that became this piece of paper or the dinosaur

that was the oil that lit Paris last night! Most of you live

in one of eighteen houses with hexagonal roofs and metal balls

on top, and there’s a fountain in the middle for water

and bee chat. For the rest of you, there are plain wooden

boxes. You must be the bad bees. What did you do,

sting somebody? Maybe you stole from the other bees.

If so, shame on you! Quit acting like wasps. Though if you

sting a baby, that’s just your job. When you babies are older,

you’ll have more to scream about, but you’ll be too

embarrassed to scream then, so you might as well do it now.

Some of you statues are imaginary, like Manon Lescaut,

lifesize before a column on which Massenet appears

only in relief—whew! Some are animal...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• I. BILL AND I GO TO CHRISTINE McINTIRE’S CHURCH
• II. ALWAYS SOMETHING THERE TO REMIND ME
• III. SATISFACTION
• IV. MARY WEISS OF THE SHANGRI-LAS EXPLAINS IT ALL TO YOU
• Notes