The beat poets, many of whom use West Coast landscapes as their setting, piqued in me not only a sympathetic ear but also a flood of memories, emotions and sentiments about the place itself. Having lived in Berkeley for a brief two years, these readings were rife in memory associations with the objectivist bent of these poets, especially Gary Snyder and Larry Eigner. They had poems that struck particular chords in me, and although I am not speaking out against post World War II culture, I felt I had a story to tell. The poem attached below, after which I have titled this post, is that story. It is a convergence of these two poets’ work and reads as such – almost as two seperate poems – united by the story of a woman named Laura. The character in the poem is based on a real person who was central to my experience on the West Coast. I worked as her caregiver a few days a week. She was completely dependent and receives twenty-four-hour care due to her Cerebral Palsy, a disease that results from birth complications,and the same one that ailed Eigner.
When I read Snyder’s “Bath” I remembered the experience of public hot springs and the intimacy and comfort of that experience. The smell of sulfur, the nakedness, the steam of the rock saunas. The memories are lovely, and Snyder’s poem related them also to my current circumstances that are more familial, though just as intimate and special. Bathtime, as we call it now, a word that sends tiny feet staggering toward the bathroom only to pull back the curtain to reveal the next adventure.
Shortly thereafter I came upon Eigner’s works and was taken aback by his biography – how close to my experience it was, and how perfectly his form seemed to speak from a broken body. The experience of reading his poems was just as Olson explained that projective art ought to be “the artist’s act in the larger field of objects, leads to dimensions larger than the man.” His poems, in their disjointed and pointed forms did “take [their] place alongside the things of nature.” Reading him made me think, too, of another kind of bath, one given to a woman in need.
I cannot claim that the attached poem is projective art, and that it should take its place among its objects, namely the life of the disabled and how Laura fits into life; into to nature. But I will claim that I have tried to give Laura a voice, one she doesn’t have but through wires and screens (when they’re working), and also that I’ve tried to put it in contrast with a common and able-bodied voice.
This format, influenced by two distinct poetic voices, works nicely in a way that allows readers to witness something universal: the bath routine, depicted so cozily and intimately by Snyder. Depicted just as intimately, but with heartbreak, here by you. And then, the influence of the second, post-bath half, of Eigner. Though there are fewer words in this half, I sense more movement – which is perhaps, more syncopation, to feel the heaviness of the words. Mashing Synder’s and Eigner’s styles together makes me realize both of these poetic styles bring readers to a sense of pause with the imagery: one is achieved through compact detail, the other through the use of white space on the page. One, perhaps, more melodic in voice, the other finding its distinct rhythm through breath work and fewer syllables, both offering readers vibrant scenes. I enjoyed your poem, and thank you for including a photo of Laura.
I really appreciate the poem you’ve made that celebrates Laura’s life and finds a meaningful and impactful way to blend styles. There was a vibrant energy in the poem–the structure, the syntax, the line breaks, were heavy with intimacy, urgency, and images. I also appreciate how the structure seems to disassemble itself, to lose rigidity, which is something that parallels so closely with Cerebral Palsy.