`Of Late Estival Yumminess'

Today would have been Tom Disch’s seventy-fifth birthday had he not ended his life on Independence Day 2009. He would have made a fine old man, full of life, humor and good stories. Disch is probably best known as a writer of science fiction, and one of his novels, Camp Concentration (1968), transcends the tacky limitations of that kiddie-lit genre. But it’s as a poet we should honor Disch’s memory. I remember reading Eric Ormsby’s review of what turned out to be Disch’s final collection, About the Size of It (Anvil, 2007), calling Borders to hold a copy and stopping on the way home from work to buy it. Rare is the poet who can dazzle with technique, touch your emotions and make you laugh. Disch is a satirist who also celebrates the world. His poems are death-haunted and full of life, and About the Size of It is one of the best collections published in the last decade. See “Villanelle for Charles Olson,” “Systems of Mourning,” “The Size of the World,” “The Vindication of Obesity,” and “September”: 

“Slice the earth anywhere

& like a plumcake it yields

one thumbful after another

of late estival yumminess

yams & more yams, tuberous

boobs of a subterranean

Cybele discovering herself

fan by fan, shovel by shovel

to the insatiable gaze

of the whistling, worshipful

clods, who call aloud the litanies

of cookbook and bawdry

Crisp potatoskins, steamed ears

of corn, ripe tomatoes steeped

in virgin olive oil

The votive ovens glow like flesh

Our hearts & mouths are full

of praise & sweet potatoes”