Russell Edson not only wrote prose poems but also was a trained artist. The above is one of Russell's illustrations.
Little Mr. Prose Poem - Selected Poems of Russell Edson is a treasure for fans of the author and also those who might be new to his work, an anthology of over one hundred Russell Edson prose poems collected from ten books published in the years from 1964 to 2009.
Also included is a Forward written by Charles Simic who observes that when it comes to reading Russell Edson, we realize that despite all the joking, these prose poems are not the scribblings of a village idiot, but of a comic genius and a serious thinker.
Additionally, there's an eight-page Afterwards written by Craig Moran Teicher who also serves as the book's editor. Mr Teicher offers a number of insights into the philosophy and psychology undergirding Edson's distinctive creations.
A general understanding certainly can serve as an added dimension when reading these Edson upside down prose potato poems; however, I find my deepest satisfaction in reading a piece over and over until the images root themselves in my imagination and I can see and feel what's happening clearly. You'll have to discover what works for you. Anyway, here's a sampling of several from this collection along with my own modest ramblings -
I wonder what Russell Edson saw when he looked in the mirror each morning. Perhaps a field of long cracked grass that had to be shaven off or hair in the form of a sleeping mole that needed a trim or two eyes that could see in reverse, could see as as far as the mica glitter of stars . . .
ANTIMATTER
On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world, where the insane go sane; where bones climb out of the earth and recede to the first slime of love.
And in the evening the sun is just rising.
Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon childhood robs them of their pleasure.
In such a world there is much sadness which, of course, is joy . . .
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With Russell Edson, we can enter the land of unspeakable things - and those unspeakable things and objects are given a voice -
WITH SINCEREST REGRETS
Like a monstrous snail, a toilet slides into a living room on a track of wet, demanding to be loved.
It is impossible, and we tender our sincerest regrets. In the book of the heart there is no mention made of plumbing.
And though we have spent our intimacy many times with you, you belong to an unfortunate reference, which we would rather not embrace . . .
The toilet slides away . . .
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Death where is thy sting! In the universe of Russell Edson, the reality of death can be a soft tomato resting on the surface of the moon. Sometimes the tomato will turn white, sometimes the tomato will crumble and sometimes the tomato will be eaten by the little moon mice that have been living, invisible to human eyes, on the surface for thousands of years. And sometimes the mice and tomato roll in a crater accidentally on purpose.
ACCIDENTS
A man had accidentally gone to bed. When he noticed it he was terribly embarrassed, and said, Of course I'll marry you, please don't cry. And then he accidentally fell asleep.
Some hours later he found himself eating breakfast. And again embarrassed said, Of course I'll pay all damages . . .
And then one day found himself on a psychiatrist's couch. And after promising the couch a nuptial alliance, said, Doctor, my life just seems one long accident, is there anything I can take for it?
Not to worry, smiled the psychiatrist, Sooner or later there's the fatal accident, which often lead to a total remission . . .
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Russell Edson lived the life of a hermit on Weed Ave in Stamford, Connecticut. Russell lived with his wife, Francis, who went off to teach children at school every day. Other than Francis, I wonder how many conversations with other women Russell had.
THE CONVERSATION
There was a woman whose face was a cow's milk bag, a pink pouch with four dugs pointing out of it . . .
A man with a little three-legged milking stool comes. She stoops and he begins to milk her face . . .
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This book is the one to make part of your library. A special thanks to BOA Editions for this handsome Russell Edson collection.
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