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

“The Only Empty Place,” poetry by Richard Lehnert

Poetry’s curt shorthand sometimes presents deep beauty or other times expresses profound truths that often evade capture in verbose prose. The poems in The Only Empty Place aim to express truth, not beauty. If poetry can express truths about life, Richard Lehnert believes it must also examine death. Truths about death lurk as subtexts even within his 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 ridicules the emptiness of his own gesture of bestowing flowers upon the bereaved mom. He adroitly calls his bouquet “a stupidity of flowers.”

As you’d expect, many of Lehnert’s poems are populated with humans (friends, lovers, and family), but just as many are inhabited by animals. And 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 set in the funereal 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 promise by not writing about their deaths.

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 this reading, he selected some of his best poems, so that’s an added incentive for you to view (or just listen to) the video.

To find Richard Lionheart’s reading on YT, see (and hear): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mUZBv7ZOEE&t=278s

Or just search YT by the poet’s name, Richard Lehnert. The autogenerated (dare I call it by its feared 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.

During my silent reading (without moving my lips), some of the poems captivated me even without any song and dance. 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,” he writes that “god is me writing / I do not believe in god.” Such blasphemy!

At his blasphemous best (or worst), Lehnert brings to mind my favorite living (if indeed still living) American poet, Antler. My search on the internet yields no new published poems by Antler either in print or on the internet in the past twelve years. I sense that Antler has been reincarnated in Richard (Lionheart) Lehnert.