Brian Gilmore is a poet about whom Peter Harris is speaking when he says that he values those poets who do not elevate themselves above the work, itself. I recently had the privilege of attending one of Brian's poetry readings. He read one touching poem about his father, a different one is copied below. I wonder if Brian is capable of writing a poem that does not touch my heart.
my
father was a dictator.
in
1968 dad suspended the house
constitution
instituted
a state of emergency
suspended
any rights television
made
us think we had.
he
declared tarzan a fake
nat
turner important
malcolm
x a brother
we
must understand.
it
was strange this regime
always
looming like lightning
during
a thunderstorm, but never
to
harm, though we know the sky
is
no friend of careless boys
who
sometimes end up
walking
home in the rain.
often
my brother and I rebelled against
this
totalitarian despot.
we
declared civil war by
staying
out until 4 or 5 a.m.
el
presidente would be awake
when
we returned,
calm
in his demeanor, greeting us with
one
of those well-prepared speeches,
like
castro.
this
constant pounding on our brains made us
surrender
eventually, and end our unrest after
nearly
20 years of disorganized resistance.
the
will of this monarch
became
our will:
like,
“you will go to school.”
“you
will not destroy your life.”
now
when I stop by my father’s house
the
state of emergency is over
the
revolution he declared was successful
the
laws he passed are no longer in need
of
enforcement.
these
presidential duties
are
exclusively mine now
and
if
i
am ever lucky enough to become
a
dictator
i
shall not hesitate
to
crush tarzan and
give
really long speeches
in
another
language.
