Dearest Creature by Amy Gerstler

Dearest Creature by Amy Gerstler was published in 2009. I picked up a copy at a used book store in LA. I’ve been wanting to read her work for a while—there is never enough time to read all the poetry I want. The book is delightful; the poems intriguing and creative. There are many narrative poems and strange persona poems such as “Advice from a Caterpillar,” “Mrs. Monster Pens Her Memoirs,” and “Interview with a Dog.” Dresses have a conversation in the back of a closet in one poem. The speaker has lunch with dead Etruscans in another. Bizarre and captivating, really. Buy here.

From “For My Niece Sidney, Age Six”

. . . Your troublesome legacy,

and maybe part of your charm, is to shine

too hotly and brightly at times, to be lost

in a maze of sensations, to have

trouble switching gears, to be socially

clueless, to love books as living things,

and therefore be much alone. If you like,

when I die, I’ll leave you my encyclopedias.

They’re wonderful company. . . .

From “Birds of America”

Naked and truthful, the birds of America

joined forces under a pale winter sun

that hung over my house like a sucked

cough lozenge or spooked moon

for what felt like centuries but in truth

was just the season of my comeuppance. . .

From “Interview with a Dog”

. . .

Q: How come I get you all nice and clean and you immediately roll in something stinky?

A: Humans don’t get true grooming, which only takes place using the tongue. Toothpaste, mouthwash, and deodorant are what’s “stinky.” Soap’s revolting. Terrible invention. Why have it in your lamplit, carpeted, door-locked lair? Dung is informative, complex—full of news flashes from the body’s interior. Shit’s an encyclopedia, volumes of urgent correspondence your organs wrote, if only you knew how to read. What’s learned from smelling shampoo? It just causes sneezing, erases articulate fumes. Bulldozes olfactory signposts. Washing is book burning. . .