Water Stair

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

John Pass, a poet from B.C.’s Sunshine Coast, has written 13 books.
His latest work has been shortlisted for a B.C. Book Award (Dorothy
Livesay Poetry Prize) and a Governor General’s Award. If readers were
never alerted to these facts, they would never guess that this
collection was so successful. This does not mean that there is no good
material. “Dead Man’s Float” humorously recalls a childhood
swimming trick. Pass cleverly concludes by observing that he
“Couldn’t do it now / to save my life.” His verse contains a few
relevant observations about contemporary society, noting that “every
western island in the stream / is spread-shot glossy in some realtor’s
dream.”

But examples of wit are rare. The poet’s description of “that
little shudder in the neck / and shoulders one gets sometimes taking a
leak” is a revelation that he should share with his urologist. Even
when the subject matter is clean, the execution is not. “Early the
drive / we took to Seattle seeking / zoo-solace, ore in the monumental /
Art Museum” is an attempt at smooth narrative that is clumsy and
vague.

Some of the better verses are found near the end of the book; perhaps
Pass can give his readers a positive final impression. In “Titanic,”
he muses about the possibility of giving up poetry for cinema. An
interesting thought—would Pass’s literary shortcomings be virtues in
Hollywood?