Friday, April 23, 2021

Stephen J. Golds on Gabriel Hart

For Days 22 and 23 of the Cruelest Poetry Month, Five-Two alums Gabriel Hart and Stephen J. Golds' commentaries on each other's collections, to be published by Close to the Bone April 30. Here's Steve on Gabriel's collection Unsongs: Vol. 1. —Gerald So

Gabriel Hart first came to my attention with his twin novellas Virgins in Reverse and The Intrusion. Two Southern Californian stories of twisted love, abuse and over indulgence. The prose was lyrical and poetic. I finished the novellas hoping to read poetry by the author at some point in the future. So bowled over in fact, I contacted Hart asking to read some of his song lyrics as he’s a very well-know musician. He sent them over and my hopes for a poetry collection increased with every song I read. Stellar, vibrant work.

Like all good things in life, good things, do indeed, come to those who wait.
 
Unsongs Volume One (released by Close to the Bone April 30th) is Hart stepping away completely from the roles of prose writer and musician. With this poetry collection he’s really coming into his own. As a poet. A real goddamned poet wanting to seemingly get away from the labels of prose writer and musician and write poetry with his own distinct stylings and themes. As Hart states in the collection’s introduction, “Songs, as we know them today, have become what I like to call ‘ego-jingles’. A singer’s precious little summation of their soul.” So, it’s safe to say, from the first bell, Hart isn’t pulling any punches in wanting to make this all about a purer, refined, deeper lyricism, before everything got so fucking banal, superficial and corporate.

For me, as the happy Editor of Close to the Bone’s Poetry Series, the poem that really epitomizes Hart and this poetry collection is Deep Root Delusion. On first reading the words come hard and fast as though from a burnt-out street hustler or a junky’s bitter, sarcastic limerick to a wasted life but there’s so much more to it than that. As all the best kind of poetry asks of its readers, we need to read it again and again and look at what is really being said here. Really look deeper! There is a deep seated dissatisfaction with conformity, or to exist for simply existing’s sake. It’s about refusing to conform, to go out on your own terms and not apologizing for it. “Pray for death to the obvious / Shake my hand with the ominous / By tearing out every ladder rung / I have not one nail of guilt / For using the sides as stilts / Because I’m walking as high / As they tried to have me strung.”

Hart truly flows his words across the page like electricity lightening up every single word. The alienation, frustration, loss, bewilderment, love, binges felt in every stanza. It’s all here.

The dark and lyrical nature of the poems included within this collection transported me to the aftermath of a California house party gone bad. Patio furniture in the pool. A vinyl LP skipping somewhere. An aching heart and an aching head. The taste of Tequila and an ex-girlfriend on my lips. The L.A. sun burning down on me like a police helicopter’s spot light. Gabriel is a real poet. And maybe the last of a dying breed taking a last gulp on the bottle of Tequila, gazing out across the Californian desert and writing something that needs to be read for all the right reasons.

Watch Gabriel Hart because I’m telling you he’s going to be larger than life and deservedly. —Stephen J. Golds

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