Based on a true story, the poem tells how we learned there was another Terry Tierney, a suspected felon, living in Lincoln, Nebraska when we moved there. My arrival aroused several official computers. The police and the social services department thought I lied about my quiet life as a graduate student supported by my tolerant, librarian wife.
Ironically, when I wasn’t distracted by writing poetry in Lincoln, I was working on my dissertation about William Makepeace Thackeray and his various protagonists as doubles of himself. Those doubles have much less contrast with one another than me and my apparent double.
The cover of The Poet’s Garage depicts the poem, complete with pools of grease where lines have spilled, the cardboard box of active verbs, and the files of proper nouns. As in the poem, the poet has eluded arrest, so far.
Thanks to Kristen Caven and Karma Bennett for giving me a chance to read for the CWC Berkeley branch on Zoom, and thanks to my publisher Unsolicited Press for reposting. I read five poems from my upcoming collection, The Poet’s Garage.
Concerned about the global shortage of fresh metaphors and irony, I was relieved to get an email from Facebook informing me I might be eligible for economic assistance from the SBA as the manager of The Poet’s Garage, my upcoming poetry collection. Just in time for its launch from Unsolicited Press.
More importantly, I hope the government will open its vast emergency stockpile of rhetorical and stylistic devices. Ever wonder why you never find synecdoches or charactonymns in the wild anymore?
But before you go searching on your own, practice good hygiene and immunize yourself against clichés by reading a poetry book. This is the best way to protect yourself and support literary recovery.