A Student of Hell [Paperback]

A friend of mine, a Scott Urban, asked me to read "A Student of Hell" and give my opinion about it. I read it and I am impressed. I have never read Tom Piccirilli's work. All I am aware of is this book of poems of his: "A Student of Hell." I am also skeptical of glowing reviews, such as the one given in the introduction of "A Student Of Hell," by Charlee Jacob. The introduction is well written, and well-intentioned, but I was a bit skeptical. I read the following selection, "Most of all, the poems connect. They find the ineluctable nexus between shortchanged life and estranged death," and I thought to myself, "Right. Whatever." Then I read the first poem in the book: "Poised On The Division Bridge." Wow! I read the lines, "how your sister stares in disbelief,/ your wife holding a broken wine glass, your brother/ still ready to kick your ass, your son pointing, neighbors/ peering throught the back window fainting, the cops/ breaking in your front door, mother wailing,/ your dead fish gaping, the dog needs to be fed/ and you have absolutely no idea/ just what the hell you might have done or said" I thought to myself: Wow! That's a poem! It sucks you in, and then hits you in the face in the end! That's one thing I found out about Tom Piccirilli: He hooks you in, sucks you down to his level, and punches you at the end. He has end lines that hit you like 2 softballs in the eyes. I'll give you another example from "Judgment:" "rising on the hill where the town meets without a sound/ ringing the cross stand two men with hammers/ and ten-penny nails" 2 black eyes- 2 fists to remind you that you're reading a poem by God! Tom also has great lines that stand out: An example: From "Marrow:" "There are more ghosts at my fingertips/ than I care to admit" I wish I could have written that, and I consider myself a good poet! Tom also writes moving stanzas. One that appeals to me is from "Lazarus, Beckoning:" "When Lazarus beckons me to the right/ I head left into the old hall/ and listen to my father fall/ choking in the bathroom/ and in the morning I'm no further along than before/ as Dad and Lazarus wake me in my bed/ shuddering, not quite one of the dead,/ no longer waiting for a fight/ and we sit to discuss some of this during the longest/ darkest tempest night" I like this stanza because it throws in rhyme at an unexpected place: from rhyming aa couplets down to a the last 3 lines rhyming aba. Not the usual thing in today's poetry. And if rhyme is done in today's poetry, it's usually too obvious and this isn't. All in all, this is a strong book of poems by a writer I now admire.

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