Naked to the Sun

Michael R. Collings

Michael Collings, the director of creative writing at Pepperdine University, is, it would seem, an inveterate science fiction fan. And while it needs to be said that not all genre poetry is bad, and a few of the pieces in here back that up, the plain fact is that the majority of it is either bad, very very bad, or just plain worse. The same can be said for this slim volume.

When Collings is good, he is very, very good. For me, the mark of how much I appreciate a rhymed poem, assuming it's not in some form that calls attention to the rhyme scheme (e.g., a villanelle or a canzone), is how far through the poem I get before I realize it rhymes. One of the early poems in this book, "Betrayal," had me three lines before the end before I realized it was rhyming. That's impressive. Some of the other poems scattered throughout here are similarly inventive with form, structure, and rhyme, making them real pleasures to read.

Then there's the rest of the book.

Naked to the Sun feels less like Collings chose the poems specifically for this book as much as said, "hmm, I've written seventy-odd pages of poetry, perhaps I should book it up and see what happens." What happens in those cases, to a one, is inconsistency. Bukowski was notorious for it, as were a number of the beats. Ginsberg, towards the end, just kept a recorder with him at all times in the belief that every thought he uttered was poetic. 'ware, aspiring versifier. No matter how good you are, you ain't that good. Neither was Ginsberg. Neither is Collings.

Frustrating. I can't figure out whether to recommend it or not. If you don't mind wading through the mediocre to find the gems that are here, it's probably worth your time. Fantasy and science fiction fans will likely get more out of it than many folks. The rest, enter at your own risk.