Grant Clauser’s first book, The Trouble with Rivers, is a gem. “What My Wife Doesn’t Know About Bass Fishing” isn’t an untypical title, but within these natural settings the poems perform sly wonders with metaphors to avoid slipping into sentimental reveries. Robert Bly, no less, chose him as the Montgomery County Pennsylvania Poet Laureate. Most of the poems dwell in nature. Here’s one with a zombie I couldn’t resist.
Halloween Mask
They never fit the way you hope
they will, the latex loose,
the green zombie nose
too low, the eye slots
too thin to guide you
down the road.
There’s no way to mask
the thing inside you.
Some costumes we swallow
with wine, with walks
along unfamiliar cobbles,
searching for doors to open
windows to break.
Others whip their shadows
like storm clouds
ripping the leaves off trees.
You can’t escape
the rain by running.
It’s like stealing other people’s tongues
but wanting to get
their taste out of your mouth.
–By Grant Clauser
