Book review of “The Only Empty Place,” poetry by Richard Lehnert, Patterson Street Press, 2023

“The Only Empty Place,” poetry by Richard Lehnert

My introduction to this book was courtesy of that bastion of popular culture, YouTube, where the “Milwaukie Poetry Series” posts videos of its readings. Lehnert’s subtle sway and dance behind the podium created a memorable performance. For his reading, he selected some of his best poems, so he has provided an added incentive for you to view (or just listen to) the video.

To find Richard “Lionheart” on YT, go to: www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mUZBv7ZOEE

or just search YT by the poet’s name, Richard Lehnert. The autogenerated (I dare not call it by its pejorative name, AI) subtitles are surprisingly accurate, so do turn subtitles ON. Alternatively, for a sidebar transcript, in the caption click More, then click Show Transcript. Now on to my own private reading.

During my silent reading (without moving my lips), some of the poems eluded me. Meaning, I didn’t know what the heck the dude was talking about. Other poems captivated me and even without any song and dance. As you’d expect, many of the poems are populated with humans (friends, lovers, and family), but just as many are inhabited by animals. And at least a third are about the dead, both human and animal.

I was keeping score.

In order of Appearance, the animals in the poems are these: a white cat, Abraham’s ram, another cat, a sea turtle, sparrows, a dead lobster, a robin, a stray dog, a yearling deer, mice, bees, a dead spider, a roadkill pigeon, pack mules, winter birds, a dead jay, crows, a horse, a flock of sheep, a dying dog, moths, and flies.

In order of Disappearance, the dead in the poems include: A dying father conveying deathbed wisdom. An ode to a friend who years ago tried to kill himself but failed, placed in the context of a visit to Dachau. A poem titled, “To Death,” enough said. The lines, “Like anyone our age now / I know more dead than living” in the poem “That Last Fall.” The concluding line, “Soon we will be dead” in “One of Those Times.” A lament about soldiers killed in battle. Some schoolboy thoughts about “your one life not lived” in “Nathan Hale’s Regret.” In “Our Way,” deer thanatology summed in “Going from where you were born / coming to where you will die / you blessed with knowing neither / I blessed with knowing both.” An early eulogy for a terminally ill friend Mary just before she died. Solace for a mother grieving over the death of her daughter. Another eulogy for a dying friend who soon died. A second eulogy to Mary, this time after she died. In “Heaven,” God forbid that “what if when you die / there is a heaven and God / and perfection isn’t boring.” His admittedly selfish thoughts when his mother is dying. Then a concluding poem titled, “On Not Writing of My Parents’ Deaths,” where the poet upholds his title’s premise by not writing about their deaths.

Poetry’s curt shorthand usually presents deep beauty or expresses profound truths that often evade capture in verbose prose. The poems here aim to express truth, not beauty. If poetry is to express truths about life, this poet believes it also must discuss death. Truths about death lurk as subtexts even within many of these poems about life. To cite just one example, in “Drywall” in which he seeks to comfort a mother mourning the death of her daughter, the poet pokes fun at the emptiness of his own gesture of bestowing flowers upon the bereaved mom. I might have chosen to bluntly call his gift “a stupid bouquet of flowers.” Stupid me! He adroitly calls it “a stupidity of flowers.” Expressed in the vernacular, Right on, Richard!

My favorite poem of all appears on almost the final pages in what happens also to be the longest in the book. In “Being God in New Mexico,” among a long list of other blasphemies he writes that “god is me writing / I do not believe in god.”

Here Lehnert brings to mind my favorite living (if indeed still living) American poet, Antler, who just happens to have been born (as Brad Burdick) and has lived (as Antler) in the more famous Milwaukee in Wisconsin. My search on the internet yields no new published poems by Antler either in print or on the internet in the past ten years. Perhaps Antler has been reincarnated in Lionheart.