Black Spring Online

Issue 2                Featured Community: Lawrence, KS           Winter 2005      ©TheRepublicofCalifornia.com

 

 

 

About Lawrence Issue: Contributing editor is Jim McCrary. Issue features poetry and art from Lawrence poets and artists Lee Chapman, Hawkman, Kenneth Irby, Jonathan Mayhew, Jim McCrary, Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, John Moritz, Monica Peck, and Judith Roitman. Essays by David Baptiste-Chirot, Stephen Ellis, Robert Grenier, Maryrose Larkin, Susan Smith Nash, Dale Smith, and Steve Tills.

Stephen Ellis                                                                    4

 

   SOME NOTES ON THE POETRY OF JIM McCRARY

The poetry of Jim McCrary is brief, watchful and alert, and is also involved with those senses of portability that allow a referential "carrying across" in the language to a location of common function. The primary effort in McCrary's work is toward a balance of ethos and pathos, perpetually (re)discovered as a place. Yet place is a source of, and site for, confusion, since it is a presence time moves through, which therefore changes everything. It is in this area, where time disturbs all places of being "at rest" that McCrary takes his stance, which is, itself, always in motion. It is this perpetual motion that gives to McCrary's essentially simple work an astonishing degree of complexity:

This is the time that tries me
as often as sun up
not even a bite to eat
solves the older problem
that loose dreams create
if ever I could I would
certainly
adjust both
position and habit
although sore shoulders never
have any answer connected

Let's just say
leaning back
bending over or
jumping up and down
fuck it
and go along
wishing like spit for another day
like this
lacking in its totality.


To be frank, none of this is worth repeating.
                            (dive, she said)

There is often the sense in McCrary's work that he is talking about one thing while meaning another in order to register time's passage, while at the same time staying (1) "in the moving moment" and (2) in the moment that ignited his wanting to stay with what continues to move (the "past"). The effect is one of a continual argument for a defining "place" that is impossible to come by and/or stay with. In that sense, many of his poems take on the quality of dialog, as if he were talking to himself from two different positions, which, curiously, not only give the poems density, but are also the source of their singulaity, one voice interrogating the other. It is as if the pathos in the work prefered to stay with the moment that excited it, while the ethos of the work demands that the work coil up and out of the selfsame initiatory instant, always at the ready for the next of it. The conflictual nature of this dialog is to the cognitive end of possibly "overthrowing" the position of The Person (the central narrating figure) in the maze which the dialog forms, so that the maze itself becomes the central - and questioning - voice. This is McCrary's ethos; comprehending the literal position in which to discover what one is honestly capable of saying ("truth"), while his pathos is what gives cause to it, staying with a common depth of feeling; staying with what moves; i.e., he seems to be always questioning what fact of function poeisis might at any instant touch, as it moves around the cycle (with at times sarcastic humor) from an end to the beginning of new means:

A. If I wait long enough what comes?

B. 6:50 Santa Fe - westbound and late.

A. That's it?

B. That's real.

A. Yeh, but what about the clouds, for instance?

B. Ever see a cloud stop a GE 24000 hp diesel

doing 60 between Eudora and Lawrence?

A. You can't answer a question with a question. See Bradshaw.

B. Bradshaw! The guy who put the art of mobile making back 500 years?

A. You did it again.

B. What?

A. I give up.

B. Good start

[West of Mass, p. 67]

For McCrary, place remains underfoot only insofar as it equally remains "talking" in addition to "seeing", in the cross between what one can get themselves in the position of "knowing" and what one can get themselves in the position of "saying", as if there were only this schizoid consciousness that could eventually lead down to the sense in which both of these positions composed the single instant through which person, place, thing and time all burn "with a like heat" as they pass for the present moment in the present moment, in which there is, finally, nothing but the graininess and particularity of a resonance that is very like a homing instinct, a means of tuning into where you are and making such position true in the language, simply by depicting all the confusion it takes to get there and remain there, leaving it always for more of the same. For McCrary, nothing is final, but for the further instances of stepping out into each next moment, in order that he add the complexity of his own insistence to what otherwise is barely there:

THE EARTH REALLY IS ROUND, ISN'T IT?

To some adding another leaf is to spend

all season waiting

what falls is already done

where it lands is over before

gravity assumes any importance

what the stick drops

I pick up and never will

discover a reason

all of which points to

lives put down

the old solution

what to do with process

if it is all a matter of fact

then why bother trying to prove

anything ever is caught

riding a bus doesn't free the sight

we're all moving toward something

and if I can see straight

I'm just fooling myself.

There ain't no straight

it's all flush.


 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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