Walt Whitman in Hell: Poems by T. R. Hummer

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Hummer presents us with a hectoring witness compelled to translate the banal urban atrocities of our current civilization into complex testimonies and transcendent prophecies.

Library Journal

"What I love/ In these nights is the power/ fact has over lyric, how what is/ Suffered is suffered, how ice/ resembles ice." Hummer knows that night is the best time to see America, to hear it singing, working, and playing. From Manhattan to California, and all those dots on the map in between, there are stories being told, lives being livedstark and sad, sometimes ugly, but often enough just on the verge of beauty: "In the 7-11 parking lot, white boys are terrorized/ by a Lincoln stereo pounching out 98-decibel jazz .... Turned up this loud/ Past midnight, Miles Davis is a cool apocalypse/ Like nothing these boys on stolen skateboards ever entered." There is a vigor and spark in Hummer's language, in his raucous rhythms, that is equal to the street scenes they evoke. He savors the power of fact and authenticity, and his keen reportage summons familiarity, discomfort, and hope. The title poem owes a debt to Dante, of course, but it is in the footsteps of Whitman that Hummer walks. Readers should step along for a bit with him. Recommended for all poetry collections.Louis McKee, Painted Bride Arts Ctr., Philadelphia

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