REVIEWS
for i was a third grade genius...
(recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize)
Whenever I read poetry, the first thing
that catches my attention is whether or not the author can hear the "Word"
-- if they have the SOUND where one phrase or line or passage flows into
the next like warm butter melting over a stack of pancakes. All of the
greats possessed this ability, and they made it seem effortless as each
word slipped across the page into the next, creating a fluid, continual
torrent of images that clicked together in all the right places like a
tumbling waterfall on the lid of a jigsaw puzzle.
Of course we all know that pulling off the above-mentioned feat is no easy
task, but once you start looking at the poems in Justin Barrett's "I Was a
Third Grade Genius," you forget that you're reading and are instead led
into a land that isn't much different than the one each of us inhabits on
a daily basis. Barrett isn't trying to dazzle us with fancy
wordsmith-tricks or create unintelligible images that don't mean a thing
to anybody except those who live in their lofty ivory towers. (And if you
want to know the truth, they don't understand them either!)
Rather, Barrett addresses the reader as if he were sitting across from
them on the bus going to work in the morning. While doing so, he tells us
about fleeting hopes, failed expectations, and a world that looks a
helluva lot different as an adult than it did during childhood. But
instead of burning this long-lost innocence in a bonfire of jaded flames,
Barrett shows how the easiness of yesteryear slowly slips into the
absurdity of today and we wake up to realize, "Hey, this is it. This is
reality."
In this collection of twenty quick-shot bursts, you'll find all of the
ingredients of daily life - family members, wives, neighbors, death,
memories, artistry, and even a "toothbrush standing alone in its holder,
the bristles frayed and bent, the handle worn and familiar." And in the
end, do you know what? Life seems all right after reading Barrett's poems
because we see that he's in it just like all the rest of us - struggling
to get through -- figuring things out -- taking the ups with the downs --
and ultimately laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.
Justin Barrett can hear the WORD, and I'm glad he can because, for a few
stolen moments of time as we wander through his world, he lets us hear it
too!
by Victor
Thorn of Babel Magazine
-Published in Babel Magazine #105
There are some interesting images and wordplay in this collection of poetry " i was a third grade genius" by Justin Barrett. Barrett a poet by night and a chemist by day, at times has just the right alchemy that makes his work worthwhile. I like the amorous tangled web of heads and appendages he evokes in, " A Good Morning" " Your leg draped/ over mine/ and three arms/ of which/ at least one/ was mine." Or how about the poet comparing his love object to a freshly rained on sidewalk to the image of himself as a creepy crawler eating her all up: " " You are a sidewalk/ after a summer sun shower/ and I am an/ earthworm braving/ your heated expanse." At times Barrett's poetry is overly concrete, and dangerously flirts with cheap sentiment. However, the reader should find enough here to wet his or her appetite, and make them want to take another bite.
by Doug Holder of Ibbetson Street Press
Justin Barrett has a way with the poem, like mayonnaise spread on toast waiting for the bacon of the mind, tomato of the intellect, the lettuce of love, and sliced perfect, each line like a section of sandwich tooth-picked together so the poem is a mounted insect on the page. Small press clean, non frills ironic, straight from the wallet each poem a twenty dollar bill you find at the bus stop on the way to work each and every Monday like some good angel of poetry has put it there.
by
Michael Basinski
-published in The Hold August 2003
One of the first
questions we should ask before tackling a poem is: Why am I reading this
poem? Are you reading a poem to be confounded and challenged by a poet’s
sublime comprehension of life at large? Are you seeking transcendental
answers to life’s perennial questions? Or are you reading a poem simply
to be entertained and humored?
For me, personally, I suppose it depends upon the poem and the purpose of
reading. If I’m working on a detailed explication of a piece, then I
suppose it’s best to be stumped and challenged. But seldom do I feel any
desire to explicate. I read poems, for the most part, to be entertained,
to laugh and enjoy myself.
In “I was a third grade genius…” justin.barrett succeeds magnificently in
doing this. His straight serum, no-nonsense style is comfortable, funny
and packed tightly with glib portions of wit. This is not to say it’s
without pathos. In his finest moment, barrett allows the reader to make
some of the most essential human connections in with an unpretentious
flare.
In “where have you gone, Jack Kevorkian” the speaker is reflecting upon an
uncle dying of colon cancer, which is juxtaposed with one of his poems
appearing in a small litzine. Finally, the speaker comes to realize that
“the poems just/ don’t seem/ to matter anymore.” And in the long run,
he’s right. It’s the poet’s ability to siphon through the bullshit and
realize what is truly important that strikes in the end. And the reader
becomes part of this. The reader connects.
If you’re looking for arcane symbolism and perplexing metaphors, may I
gently steer you towards the collected works of T.S. Eliot—certainly
wonderful it’s own sense. But if you’re looking for a quick, enjoyable
read with a very tenable and approachable voice, I highly recommend this
finely produced, well-edited first chapbook by justin.barrett.
*note: The copy sent to me included a slick, little broadside poem titled
“booger” that had me laughing aloud. If you have the money and they’re
still available, spend the extra cash on the whole package.
by Nathan Graziano
barrett has been featured all over the Small Press, the Internet and in
Print Journals, but after reading this chapbook from Bottle of Smoke
Press, I was really hooked in the web of his words. If you have not heard
of him or read his work, I suggest otherwise. He has the lone gift to
punch you in the jaw with simplicity and weep with eloquence, all in the
same lines. You catch his wit, his irony and his satiric nature
throughout the chapbook with his views on life, love and work. You feel
for him and you feel with him and this is not an easy thing to do in
boring Contemporary poetry of today.
Favorites of mine are “making poetry bleed,” “the honest relationship” and
“who the hell I think I am.” But he grabs you too with “like fireworks”
and “spark.” You understand he is fighting the good fight and by God, his
poems make you want to get in the ring and fight alongside him.
barrett has a new chapbook coming soon from Mystery Island Publications
entitled Squeezing Blood From A Mummy**. You better believe I will be
first in line when this new chapbook comes out. The only real question
is, will you?
*You can get a copy of i was a third grade genius from Bottle of Smoke
Press
(www.bospress.net).
**Squeezing Blood From A Mummy will be soon available from Mystery
Island Publications (www.mysteryisland.net).
by E. William Martin
Justin Barrett lives in Salt Lake City, USA where he writes poetry, edits an internet magazine and publishes beautiful works through his Hemispherical Press. If you have seen his magazine remark. or any of his HP Press publications you will know how talented he is at both of these. If you have read any of his poetry you will also know that he is a great poet. If you haven’t read any of his poetry then “I was a third grade genius” is a wonderful place to start.
The thing that strikes me at first glance about Justin Barrett’s poems is the seeming simplicity of the ideas and words that he uses. He doesn’t dress his poems up in flowery language or waste time in developing complicated ideas that don’t pay off. He doesn’t need to. He is a poet whose direct line of language and meaning says more than most poets words can. When you dig a little deeper into the apparently straight - forward but tightly written poems greater depths are waiting to be discovered.
Barrett writes of many of the things that affect us in our lives. He writes about the important things. His poems talk of the disappointments we face throughout life, the struggles and the futilities in life and relationships but he also finds ways to rise above them and see the hope in the small pleasures or the things that matter most as we continue to battle our way through the day to day.
In the title poem Barrett writes “today I am a / struggling poet and / an even more struggling / factory worker who / is no longer coddled / or nurtured” when he reflects upon his childhood, and in “Where have you gone, Jack Kevorkian” he tells of how his Uncle is sick and that “he’s come to the realization, / with the help of / his wife and doctors, / that it is best to let go”, then he laments that “now / the poems just/ don’t seem / to matter anymore.” These poems tell of the good times gone bad but Barrett can also make us think of the bad times looking brighter. In “We ain’t got no money, honey…” he tells of financial hardships but reminds us, as his wife leads him to the bedroom “some things / are better than having / money in the bank / and we are cashing / in on them all.”
To me both of these aspects are important to Barrett’s poetry – we need to hear how we are all affected by the same things in life but we also need to know that there is something more than the sadness and failure to hold on to. In one long poem Barrett tells a slightly disturbing but also humorous story of how his wife has seen an episode on Oprah about a self – help book and decides that honesty is needed in their relationship. He tells her that they cannot “truly say what’s / on our minds / without one or the other / of us getting hurt.” After an almighty bust up he reasons calmly that “her book was / right. / our new found, / open and / honest relationship / is stronger / than ever.”
Not all of the poems in this book have such positive endings. Sometimes we are left with the hard, cold facts hanging in front of us, like something unpleasant but demanding of our attention, on the end of our fork. “Spark”, “Chinese Takeout” and “The Big C” are examples of poems that left me sitting, thinking and pondering on their closing stanzas for a long time after I had read them. It is this that makes me read poetry and why I enjoyed these poems so much – Barrett sometimes shows us the way but often he leaves us to sort out our own answers and we need that just as much. In “Fireworks” he says “poems / are best when / they are / over.” In cases like this, where they stay with us when they are over and make the reader do some work, I agree.
One of my favourite poems is “The next morning” where Barrett tells us “there’s life in / this old / feller yet, you think as you / pick it up / and start prying / last night’s / words from / between your/ teeth.” When these poems are last nights I, for one, know there will be more great poems to come. They will tell us of all manner of things, good and bad, and I am looking forward to hearing about it. You should be too.
Aside from the great poems, this book is another wonderful Bottle of Smoke publication – beautifully designed and produced and if you are lucky enough you could own a limited edition copy with the felt covered mini book included and …... well, that’s just something else to make it an essential purchase. I hope you find out.
by Adrian
Manning
-published in Small Press Review
Ordinarily, when confronted by a poet whose talent I believe is superior
to my own, I react with anger and jealousy. One of the few exceptions is
justin.barrett. His latest chapbook “I was a third grade genius...”
perfectly illustrates why justin.barrett’s small press star is on the rise
and why you should take note of it.
The twenty one poems comprising this collection shows a poet confident in
his abilities but not egotistical. Every poem is as long as it needs to
be. There are no wasted words. No false emotions. He successfully balances
narrative drive with imagery, original and often powerful. The poems are
often humorous, and surprisingly philosophical in places. The poet’s
personality pervades but never overshadows the work. Personal favorites
are “the honest relationship”, the titular poem and “like fireworks”. Now,
I hate poems about poetry unless I’m the author, but “like fireworks”, at
an economical thirty words, may be the best poem you’ll ever read about
the craft.
The chapbook is published by Bottle of Smoke Press, which continues its
tradition of presenting stellar productions of talented poets. Pick up
this collection, and treat yourself to a few more titles from BOS’s ever
expanding catalogue.
by Karl Koweski