Micah Ballard’s latest chapbook Busy Secret is a quippy, somewhat resigned meditation on the liminal spaces between life and death, and wealth and work. For Ballard’s narrators, these themes are central, presenting the questions that both create and disrupt the everyday textures of our lives. Through its repeated allusions to failed occupations, a distrust of wealth, and a meandering sense of self, the collection considers the relationship between our inner and outer lives and ultimately demonstrates the fragility of the relationship between the two.
In “Moscow on the Hudson,” the speaker treats poems like “diamonds cut for consignment,” gesturing to the modern devaluation of poetics. “Anything misleading count me in,” the speaker adds, as if to confirm that the life of the poet is not often what it appears to be. Indeed, the inner life of the dedicated poet does not always (or even often) translate to the successful outer life of an established one. “Whatever I had to become I became,” the speaker muses, gesturing to the necessity of adaptability in the arts. For Ballard’s narrator, and perhaps Ballard himself, a poet must be ready for a chameleon career, must be willing, as the speaker has been, to not only be a poet, but to be an aspiring poet, an artist cloaked under labels such as student, academic, or even, as in “Moscow on the Hudson,” unlicensed fortune teller.
Ballard’s narrator is, in a way, also deeply hopeful. Despite his fears for the genre, he continues to write, affirming the writing form’s value in the face of its hardships.
In “Name Value,” the speaker similarly contemplates life in academia, commenting on the policing of poetry and subtly integrating a metanarrative into the text — a secondary narrative that breaks the so-called fourth wall between the reader and the poem. “Name Value” both acknowledges the supposedly dwindling state of the poetic genre and the fact that the text itself is a poem, beckoning readers to consider the seemingly endless possibilities of the poetic form. Here, Ballard is honest and reflective, imbuing his work with a compelling vulnerability and nuance. Although melancholic about the state and status of modern poetics, Ballard’s narrator is, in a way, also deeply hopeful. Despite his fears for the genre, he continues to write, affirming the writing form’s value in the face of its hardships. In a way, Busy Secret rejects binary organizations, presenting failure and success, as well as delight and disgust, not as opposing states but as conjoined ones. While a “rotting mansion” and a well-populated “Museum of Death” are central scenes, delightful images of mouth-watering “gumbo,” “jambalaya” and “crawfish etouffee” regularly compete for the reader’s (and the speaker’s) attention. The text’s dealings in both extremes are as compelling as they are off-putting, creating a unique blend of short, punchy narratives that spur reflection (and re-reading). A short, impactful read, Micah Ballard’s Busy Secret is a strange, almost enigmatic chapbook that considers the boundaries between our lives and our selves. It is just as sure to resonate as it is to disconcert.
Micah Ballard is the author of over a dozen books of poetry including Waifs and Strays (City Lights Books), Afterlives (Bootstrap Press), The Michaux Notebook (FMSBW), Krewes (Bootstrap Press), Selected Prose, 2008-19 (Blue Press), Evangeline Downs (Ugly Duckling Presse), Daily Vigs (Bird & Beckett Books), Vesper Chimes (Gas Meter), Muddy Waters (State Champs), and Negative Capability in the Verse of John Wieners (Bootstrap Press). He lives in San Francisco with poet Sunnylyn Thibodeaux, their daughter Lorca, and co-edits Auguste Press and Lew Gallery Editions.
Publisher: above/ground press (February 2024)
Catherine Marcotte is an avid reader, writer, and editor. She is pursuing her MA in English Literature and Language at Queen’s University where she is writing about intersectional feminism and ecocriticism while interrogating the boundaries between personal and academic writing.
