The Unfinished Anthology, Vol. I

Martin Singleton was a poet living in Toronto.

This slim volume, the first of a series from Unfinished Monument Press, includes the work of six of its authors, all of whom have published at least one book.

There are certain commonalities: all except Margaret Saunders are to some extent politically involved, and all but James Deahl use colloquial rhythms and diction (“gotta,” “Pepsi smile,” “bugger off, moon”). Humour is also a common factor for most, whether it be Shaunt Basmajian’s “They Don’t Shoot Poets Here” (a sardonic look at the Toronto poetry “scene”), Chris Faiers’ “White Rasta” poems, David Reid’s “Serfs” or “Going Down in Rio” — a wicked reversal of man eating fish on Fridays — or Lynn Kositsky’s “leaking” children in “Vacation.”

Of the six, the most emotive is Faiers, whose poems of personal and political anguish are very strong. Like Basmajian and Reid, he has a fine ear and sometimes coins neologisms for sheer fun. Faiers steers well between Basmajian’s stereotypes and Reid’s subjectivity. Deahl, easily the most polished craftsman, uses formal structure with great skill. The women fare less well: too many of Kositsky’s and Saunders’ poems are embarrassingly slight, although the former’s “PCB Jam” and the latter’s haiku sequence are more promising.

With eight typos and execrable back-cover photography (the front is good), it’s what’s inside that counts.