 | A WRITER'S WIT |
My Book World
Seale, Jan. The Parkinson Poems. Beaumont: Lamar University Press, 2014.
Seale’s striking collection of poems is divided into four parts: Onset, Progression, Treatment, and Abiding.
The poems in Onset are beset with astonishment, anguish, a bit of denial. The “unwanted guest” serves as an extended metaphor for “The Guest”: “His name was Parkinson/and his presence was permanent” (15). Across these eight stanzas, this guest runs the gamut from one who “hung up his clothes/wrong side out” (16) to one who “dropped silverware, knocked over glasses,/spilt food, complained of dull knives” (17), one who “became the conversation director,/insisting they discuss him at least/several times a day” (18), one who “went everywhere with them/but wasn’t interested in staying long” (19), to finally, the one who “had no plans to leave,/because he dearly loved the husband” (21). He becomes “The Man Who Came to Dinner,/The bass ack[w]ards/of their lives” (23).
In Progression the unwanted guest becomes a slow-mover in “You and Turtles”: “You’ve absorbed their abilities: perfected ‘slow,’/the hokey-poke-along, stop and go,/the sudden hustle away from danger. Silence./More than once, you’ve been found on your back,/but helped to turn over, proceeded your stoical way” (43).
“Group Therapy” sums up Treatment, where caregivers and caremakers meet separately. “Here for an hour they will dump out/the boxes of their souls/and the dregs of their bodies./The caregivers will marvel that strangers/are saying their thoughts aloud./The Parkies will nod at their histories,/grimace at the previews./Some will wish only for home” (58).
“Abide” is a kind word for bearing or putting up with, and Seale captures that singular meaning, as well, in “Sleep-talking.”
They tell us the disease does not make distinctions
between dreaming and waking. The Parkinsonian
will speak his glossolalia, sometimes for all.
Even though I foolishly long to know him better,
this husband of many years, I am barred
at the gateway of his dreams.
His words waking me are like the light pebbles
he tossed upward at my dorm window in the days
when we loved, both dreaming and awake” (65).
I’m not sure why I am drawn to these poems. Is it with the hope that I and my loved ones will not be saddled with this unwanted guest? Or is it in some way to prepare myself for his coming, should he arrive for either me or my partner of forty years? If I could, I would offer Seale and her husband a bit of comfort, but what would it be? A soft word? A touch of understanding to the elbow? What can I offer the caregiver or the caremaker of any dread disease? Anything other than my attempt to understand would seem profane and empty.
NEXT TIME: New Yorker Fiction 2016
Seale’s striking collection of poems is divided into four parts: Onset, Progression, Treatment, and Abiding.
The poems in Onset are beset with astonishment, anguish, a bit of denial. The “unwanted guest” serves as an extended metaphor for “The Guest”: “His name was Parkinson/and his presence was permanent” (15). Across these eight stanzas, this guest runs the gamut from one who “hung up his clothes/wrong side out” (16) to one who “dropped silverware, knocked over glasses,/spilt food, complained of dull knives” (17), one who “became the conversation director,/insisting they discuss him at least/several times a day” (18), one who “went everywhere with them/but wasn’t interested in staying long” (19), to finally, the one who “had no plans to leave,/because he dearly loved the husband” (21). He becomes “The Man Who Came to Dinner,/The bass ack[w]ards/of their lives” (23).
In Progression the unwanted guest becomes a slow-mover in “You and Turtles”: “You’ve absorbed their abilities: perfected ‘slow,’/the hokey-poke-along, stop and go,/the sudden hustle away from danger. Silence./More than once, you’ve been found on your back,/but helped to turn over, proceeded your stoical way” (43).
“Group Therapy” sums up Treatment, where caregivers and caremakers meet separately. “Here for an hour they will dump out/the boxes of their souls/and the dregs of their bodies./The caregivers will marvel that strangers/are saying their thoughts aloud./The Parkies will nod at their histories,/grimace at the previews./Some will wish only for home” (58).
“Abide” is a kind word for bearing or putting up with, and Seale captures that singular meaning, as well, in “Sleep-talking.”
They tell us the disease does not make distinctions
between dreaming and waking. The Parkinsonian
will speak his glossolalia, sometimes for all.
Even though I foolishly long to know him better,
this husband of many years, I am barred
at the gateway of his dreams.
His words waking me are like the light pebbles
he tossed upward at my dorm window in the days
when we loved, both dreaming and awake” (65).
I’m not sure why I am drawn to these poems. Is it with the hope that I and my loved ones will not be saddled with this unwanted guest? Or is it in some way to prepare myself for his coming, should he arrive for either me or my partner of forty years? If I could, I would offer Seale and her husband a bit of comfort, but what would it be? A soft word? A touch of understanding to the elbow? What can I offer the caregiver or the caremaker of any dread disease? Anything other than my attempt to understand would seem profane and empty.
NEXT TIME: New Yorker Fiction 2016
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Introduction to My Long-Playing Records
"My Long-Playing Records" — The Story
"A Certain Kind of Mischief"
"Ghost Riders"
"The Best Mud"
"Handy to Some"
"Blight"
"A Gambler's Debt"
"Tales of the Millerettes"
"Men at Sea"
"Basketball Is Not a Drug"
"Engineer"
"Snarked"
"Killing Lorenzo"
"The Age I Am Now"
"Bathed in Pink"
Listen to My Long-Playing Records Podcasts:
"A Certain Kind of Mischief"
"The Best Mud"
"Handy to Some"
"Tales of the Millerettes"
"Men at Sea"
"My Long-Playing Records"
"Basketball Is Not a Drug"
"Snarked"
"Killing Lorenzo"
"Bathed in Pink"
Also available on iTunes.
Introduction to My Long-Playing Records
"My Long-Playing Records" — The Story
"A Certain Kind of Mischief"
"Ghost Riders"
"The Best Mud"
"Handy to Some"
"Blight"
"A Gambler's Debt"
"Tales of the Millerettes"
"Men at Sea"
"Basketball Is Not a Drug"
"Engineer"
"Snarked"
"Killing Lorenzo"
"The Age I Am Now"
"Bathed in Pink"
Listen to My Long-Playing Records Podcasts:
"A Certain Kind of Mischief"
"The Best Mud"
"Handy to Some"
"Tales of the Millerettes"
"Men at Sea"
"My Long-Playing Records"
"Basketball Is Not a Drug"
"Snarked"
"Killing Lorenzo"
"Bathed in Pink"
Also available on iTunes.
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