[REVIEW] Right Now More Than Ever, by Nate Pritts

~ by C.L. Bledsoe

100 pgs/$24.95

There’s an immediacy to Pritts’ title but also a bit of gibberish in it. It smacks of a slogan, well-meaning but also empty. And couldn’t so many of our most meaningful and important life moments be reduced to slogans, sadly? Throughout this collection, Pritts expounds on the idea of presence, of being part of his own life, of not just observing but really experiencing and interacting with those he cares about, but at the same time he mocks his own efforts, refusing to take himself too seriously or allow himself to venture into the realm of “preciousness.” He is (trying to be) “here” right now more than ever, as in present in THE present, but the spotlight he’s shining on these efforts is also a little silly, as he tells us by mocking at the same time he recognizes its importance. Basically, it’s nothing special to be present in one’s own life (everyone does it, theoretically), but that doesn’t make it any more important. This mocking also smacks a bit of self-defense: if it isn’t special, then it also shouldn’t be that scary, perhaps.

In “Talking About Autumn Rain” Pritts begins:

I hereby submit this yellow leaf as my charter,
wet & preserved under snowpack – Syracuse
blunt, a backyard bluster of stark white –

though it’s early December which means it’s
autumn & the rains that rain & melt the snow
are still autumn rains. Sirs: This application contains

six parts – a missing casement, two atria, two
vehicles & respected sobbings. Also,
more than a gallon of blood. Please wear gloves

when handling to ensure proper emotional distance
from the exploding world I can’t make sense
of…

Pritts’ exploding world is the world outside the mind which he may have “railed against/ in the bright sunshine of [his] morning li[fe]” (as he states later in the poem) but now, as he’s apparently gotten older and gained some life experience, he’s begun to make peace with it. I’m reminded of Robin Williams’ character The King of the Moon, in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, who has split his head from his body in order to pursue the life of the mind separate from the body, which runs around humping things. But as with the King, one must eventually rejoin the mind to the body or else miss out on much of what life has to offer.

A surprising reoccurrence in this collection is imagery of the natural world. Pritts’ real talent lies in the startling line, the unexpected image. In “The Hills Have Justice” he includes several: “When I don’t notice something,/ I do it strong.” “I will never reflect on my life/so I won’t have to feel bad about it./Overheard, the sky full of etcetera…” And later, “My heart a vacuum in June. My head/full of bad dreams, hundreds of them/every night like sharp stars.” He continues with a powerful image of natural justice which would serve better as an ending to this poem:

The lake full of monster.
Every city has one, something big
under the surface waiting to destroy it
before some other beast gets the pleasure.

“Sentimental Spectacular” is a touching love poem which begins: “Of all the snowflakes rocketing early/through the late fall air, I’m only going to remember//the forty or so stuck to your hair.” In “Rise Time,” Pritts marvels at how overwhelming and dangerous the world can seem. He finally realizes, “I knew then that my life’s work would be reassembly/& thought that would be a fine way to live.//No more eyes to see with/just an instruction book.” His focus has become on death and endings because he’s become concerned about and attached to his present.

Pritts hasn’t wholly adopted the mantel of a nature poet, though. He experiments with form and meaning with poems like “Flamingo Poem Poem”:

I’m going to flamingo this flaming
into flamingo & call it Poem.

I’m going to golden sun behind clouds,
feather & haze propped up on one supporting

fact like a leg plunged in water. Exuberant
declaration! O Insight, O Epiphany!

I’m going to diction. I’m going to shifting
tone: serious consideration given to the Fanciful

bursting off. I’m going to poem this poem into poem
& call it Flamingo…

Pritts is a well-known figure in the small press world, an editor for H_NMG_N journal and press and frequent contributor to many journals. This collection feels like a coming of age for him, combining playful experimentation with real depth.

CL Bledsoe