A Review of non-zero-sum, by Jack Galmitz
(Impress 2015)
By Joey Madia
As Founding Editor of www.newmystics.com,
which hosts pages for seventy authors and artists from around the world, I have
the opportunity to give the creators of innovative and thought-provoking poetry
a forum for their work.
In cultivating the e-publisher/author relationship, I am sometimes
asked to review additional work by an author. In the case of Jack Galmitz, in
2014 I reviewed three of his chapbooks—Objects,
Yellow Light, and A Semblance. During the course of our
correspondence, Galmitz wrote that his poetry is based on “the indeterminacy
created by ambiguity—sometimes two words that are joined together when left
alone on the page makes one realize there are many ways to take them and this
leaves doubt and makes one look and be aware of what is there and this is the
purpose I think of art.”
This philosophy brings to mind some of my current favorites
in the poetry world—Heller Levinson and Eileen Tabios. They share Galmitz’s
ability to create works that require the reader in relationship for them to
reach full bloom. One cannot read their poems, nor review them, in a
traditional way.
This is especially true after reading Galmitz’s recent
chapbook, non-zero-sum, which
consists of a few dozen poems, all three lines each, in a 33-page pdf, a total that includes three blank pages at the
end. The book can be “read” in 15 minutes or less—or you can spend hours with
it, over time, mining the riches that the brevity and imagery provide. This is
what I suggest. Making an interpretation of the title and the blank pages, one
might say that non-zero-sum indicates
a crucial dependence on outside factors, such as the contributions made by the
reader to the process.
Following on from this interpretation, I have chosen half a
dozen of the poems to reprint here. After each, I share what I took from them
in the way of interpretation and, more importantly, personal inspiration. Like
a Buddhist koan or a sutra—or our dreams—what we take from them is unique to the
individual experiencing them.
“The room full
of cardboard
boxes
empty”
I take this
as the collection itself, the room being the book. The poems are the cardboard
boxes, left empty to be filled with what the reader chooses to put in them.
“While
they're in the air
listen to
the leaves falling
there”
Of all of
the pieces in this collection, this one operates most like a Buddhist koan or a
sutra, similar to, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” There is no right
or wrong answer—simply engage your senses on the imagery of the leaves… how do
they look? How do they sound? You could spend a great deal of time with just this
poem.
“A mushroom
cloud
rising in
the distance
iphones
steady”
A commentary
on the ubiquity of cameras in modern life, this poem, to me, also signifies that
getting the “shot”—be it still or video—for your Instagram, Facebook, Vine, or
Snapchat—is the motivating factor of the moment, not the larger
historical/sociopolitical implications of what you are witnessing. The word
“steady” is key to me. A major nuclear event happens right in front of modern Techno sapien, and our subject remains
unpanicked. As I share in my interactive bullying education and prevention
workshops, so much of what our teenagers see is through the frame of a
computer, ipad, or phone… and that makes everything look like TV and film,
which leads to a dangerous disengagement.
“A glass
vase
holds a
warped table
& a
white rose”
I chose this
poem for a few reasons, the first being that it requires the reader to place
trust in the craftsmanship and specificity of the poet. Each word was chosen
with intent, just as each seemingly random drip and splatter of a Jackson
Pollock painting is intentional, or made to be so through further intention.
What is the
visual image of a vase holding a table?
A warped table, at that? What might
it mean? The limitations of physics take us from the literal into the
metaphorical. The symbolism of the white rose adds an additional dimension.
This three-line, 10-words-and-an-ampersand poem holds limitless possibilities
for contemplation, a story prompt, or the raw material for a visual expression
through a painting or picture.
“Every
Sunday
at the sea
there’s a
sermon”
Having grown
up at the Jersey shore and lived near the ocean in Maine and also currently in
North Carolina, I have known many fishermen and have read more than my share of
Conrad, Melville, and Hemingway, so this poem speaks to me of the sea and the
hard, dangerous life of those that ply their trade on its treacherous waters,
and the role of Faith, Belief, and Prayer in the lore of their lives. And I
have also seen enough sunsets and storms upon the water to know that the sea
itself provides its own
transcending sermon in the prayer of water and wind.
“At the
rectory
under the
bare bulb
two men
shooting up”
This one
resonates like a scene from film noir. It contains point/counterpoint, and
could almost be considered what is now called “flash fiction,” an example of
which is Hemingway’s “For sale, baby’s shoes, never worn.”
Galmitz’s poetry
is provocative through its efficiency, reminding us all of the power of words.
In an age of 140-character “tweets” he reminds us that a small number of words
need not be mundane nor meaningless.
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