Bonfires

Ronald Charles Epstein is a Toronto-based freelance writer and published poet.

Small-town Ontario poet Chris Banks prefers to be a perceptive man, not
a sensitive male. This choice means that guys may view his poetry as
intelligent, not embarrassing. Many can understand his recollections of
youthful visits to a Creemore, Ontario, cemetery with “a case of
Export / smuggled out of someone’s garage / into a friend’s trunk”
and, sometimes, girls (“Graveyard”).

The author jocularly acknowledges his literary peers. In “Whispering
Angels,” he teases his friend and colleague, Paul Vermeersch, by
referring the “winged bastards” to “Vermeersch ... He works late
anyways.” He is the only poet who establishes an unpretentious image
by making fun of someone else.

The writer uses, but is not used by, his imagination. In “What’s
Left to Wonder About,” he confesses his desire to believe in magic,
even as he acknowledges that “a piece of Noah’s Ark” is actually
“a chunk of wood / some man fried in teriyaki sauce.” He teaches us
that the true poet is creative, not credulous.

People who are tired of the termination-of-life issues raised by the
Terri Schiavo case will not find escape in “Halloween.” This family
values/horror poem deals with his police officer father’s and nurse
mother’s efforts to save an old drunk’s life. Since the victim blew
off half his face with a rifle, one wonders if the couple should have
let him die or condemned him to live with his gross deformities. Banks
leaves his readers with an insoluble problem.

Bonfire is a worthy introduction to this poet.