Editor's Pick

Abstract

Kim Stafford The Flavor of Unity: Post-Election Poems Little Infinities, 2017 Are you dreading the future after reading the dystopian lit in this issue, or feeling paralyzed by the general malaise in the world today? First, read Timothy Bradford’s recommended books on activism (pages 6–7), then track down a copy of The Flavor of Unity, poet Kim Stafford’s recently released chapbook. Impeccably timed, my copy arrived the day before the US presidential inauguration in January. A cover letter explained the genesis of the project: Stafford woke before dawn on November 8, 2016, and wrote the first poem in the book, “Election Morning Starlight,” full of the fervor to offer “sufficient witness at the fulcrum” of history. After the election, Stafford aspired to cultivate a sense of post-election unity, to achieve “a sense of common purpose [as] our way forward together.” In “Why I Am a Teacher after the Election,” Stafford writes: “So we sing praise. Tell legends / of the good, story the lives of simple / saints and worthy witnesses.” The theme of “eloquent witnessing” echoes throughout the twenty-eight poems in the book, building on the author’s concept of “eloquent listening” in The Muses Among Us (2003). In the three-part poem “Dear America,” we read: “If you were a century, I would be one breath / striving to speak my honest syllable.” Here, the poet offers a “whispered testament” even as the new American president called on citizens to “bleed the red blood of patriots” in his inaugural address. In an afterword subtitled “A Hierarchy of Responses to Trouble in the World,” Stafford offers twelve possible antidotes to paralysis “in a kind of ascending order of usefulness.” The first half-dozen items suggest various solitary modes of catharsis or turning inward, but the poet then turns away from “brute reaction” to endorse, instead, approaches that “empower others” and “gather companions for the difficult, restorative work to come”: “Send forth your writing or art to help others,” he writes, practicing what he preaches. The booklet (available at lulu.com) ends with three dozen epigrammatic lines meant to spur “constructive responses in times of change.” My favorite reads: “The nesting-doll of the citizen in dark times: the pragmatic encloses and protects the skilled, which encloses and protects the creative, which guards the free spirit.” For Stafford, that free spirit sparks the creative, which in turn impels the concerned citizen to join the new “continental congress” that “convenes / at bus stops, taverns and cafes, parking lots / where neighbors pause (their shopping carts / with flour milk and eggs).” While some might choose to hurl themselves against the barricades, thoughtful readers will welcome Stafford’s more measured counsel for the next four years and beyond. Daniel Simon Editor in Chief If things start we’ll have to be ready for a scrap with the whole world—and, God willing, we’ll come out on top!” and he laughed and coughed again. That night, Matija tossed and turned, trying to dispel his dark thoughts and get to sleep. I’ll have to go in search of food again tomorrow. I’d really like some meat again. It’s been ages since we had that piece of old cow that the farmer took apart down at the front entrance, he thought, recalling the repulsive sight. Then he was beset by doubts as to whether he had really completed his stories. The composition bothers me here and there, the narrative is too linear, and there are probably still redundancies, he thought. Should I tweak things a bit more or ask someone’s opinion? I know in advance what Ana would say. Love makes you blind. . . . Hey, what about M. R.? He wouldn’t refuse me the favor. Why didn’t I think of him before? He’d give me some good, honest feedback. Yes, I’ll give him the stories to read, but I mustn’t say a word to Ana or else she’ll lose her temper. I can hear her reproaching me already: “Why are you so unsure of yourself? Didn’t you promise me you wouldn’t add one letter more?” I’ll call him from the office...