Here's a poem about something that each of us receives, though only once. If you didn't get yours written into a poem, you've got it put away somewhere.

Wyatt Townley lives in Kansas, and "First Kiss" is from her new book, “Rewriting the Body,” from Stephen F. Austin State University Press.

First Kiss

Here you are forty years
later in a white coat
examining my ears.

All I can think
is how your tongue once
turned in the tunnel

you're peering into. The
fault is not in my ears,
but between them!

No one can see that far.
But could we gaze back
through the years and dead stars

to the doorstep of my parents' house,
you bending down with your tall mouth
to make the softest landing on mine,

having thrown off my balance
so tenderly, can you explain,
good Doctor, how to regain it?


American Life in Poetry does not accept unsolicited manuscripts. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation, publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2018 by Wyatt Townley, "First Kiss," from Rewriting the Body, (Stephen F. Austin State University Press, 2018). Poem reprinted by permission of Wyatt Townley and the publisher. Introduction copyright @2019 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

‘THE IRISHMAN’

Let’s face the fact that director Martin Scorsese knows more than a little something about delivering mob-themed movies. After all, he was raised in the Little Italy neighborhood of New York City that inspired several of his films.

Italian heritage is hardly the measure to explain Scorsese’s success with mob dramas. His talent was evident in “Mean Streets,” one of his earliest works about a small-time hood aspiring to work his way up the ranks of the local mob.

Scorsese’s “Goodfellas,” which starred Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci as two gangsters ascending the hierarchy of the Mafia, depicted serious violence. “Casino” is another great gangster film that also starred De Niro and Pesci.

The point of revisiting the prolific director’s mob hits is not just that he has a proclivity for using the same actors in key roles, but to underscore that he’s the best candidate to adapt Charles Brandt’s “I Heard You Paint Houses” book about a Mafia player.

The titular character of “The Irishman,” based on Brandt’s book, is Robert De Niro’s Frank Sheeran, who began his career as a truck driver and worked his way up to being a confidante to Jimmy Hoffa (Al Pacino), the powerful leader of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union.

Delivering meat products for a trucking company, Sheeran had a fortuitous encounter when he met mob boss Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci) while having engine trouble at a Texaco gas station.

One may ask, what exactly is the meaning of the title of Brandt’s book? In his first conversation with Sheeran, Hoffa says “I heard you paint houses,” to which Sheeran replies in the affirmative, adding that “I also do my own carpentry.”

Painting a house is when the hitman splatters the blood of his victim on the interior of a building. Doing one’s own carpentry refers to the disposal of a body. Think of the effort necessary to prepare a pine box for a funeral service.

Scorsese frames the film from the point of view of the titular character. Having outlived just about everyone connected to the mob, Sheeran reminisces in his old age at a Catholic retirement home, showing few regrets other than a failed relationship with one of his daughters.

The criminal life comes easily to Sheeran as he soon starts selling meat products from the back of his truck to Philadelphia gangster Skinny Razor (Bobby Cannavale), who facilitates an introduction to crime boss Angelo Bruno (Harvey Keitel).

Meanwhile, these mob connections also bring Sheeran back into contact with Bufalino, leading to new work collecting cash payoffs in shakedowns. Stationed in Italy during World War II, Sheeran’s ability to speak the language ingratiates him to his new mob associates.

Sheeran’s family life gets complicated, particularly when his young daughter Peggy (Lucy Gallina) realizes something ominous about her father when he viciously beats up a grocery store owner who had mistreated her.

Later in life, the adult Peggy (Anna Paquin), knowing her father’s volatile temper and suspecting the worse, can only blankly stare at him during family gatherings, and his attempt at reconciliation even at the end of his days is met with stone-cold silence.

Upon Bufalino’s recommendation, Sheeran advances into a position of trust within the Teamsters Union to intimidate those who might pose a risk to Hoffa’s leadership and the use of the pension fund to finance mob-owned hotels in Las Vegas.

Unmistakably, during the ‘50s and ‘60s, Hoffa loomed large as one of the most powerful men in America, given that the Teamsters Union controlled the distribution of goods throughout the country with a tight grip on the trucking industry.

The film targets the political scene during the 1960 presidential election, noting the mob support that factored into John F. Kennedy winning the White House with ballot tinkering in Illinois and other campaign activities.

Things get ugly when the newly-elected president appoints his brother Bobby (Jack Huston) as Attorney General, who without missing a beat charges hard against Hoffa’s union for corruption.

Hoffa also has an enemy with the hotheaded union rival Anthony Provenzano (Stephen Graham), known by the moniker of “Tony Pro,” who disrespects the Teamsters leader by showing up late to meetings dressed like he’s going to a pool party.

Scorsese has packed the film with so many hoods it is hard to keep track. Amusingly, the introduction of new characters is accompanied by captions such as “shot eight times in the head in a Chicago parking lot” and “shot three times in the face.” Death by natural causes is rare.

Given that “The Irishman” is from the point of view of Sheeran, the historical accuracy of this mob tale is in question, particularly as it relates to the disappearance of Hoffa in 1975 without any apparent trace.

Watching “The Irishman,” which runs at three-and-one-half hours, is a serious time commitment, but the effort is worthwhile because this film ranks in the top tier of Scorsese’s work. “Netflix” offers the comfort of viewing this epic at home.

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.

LAKE COUNTY, Calif. – Konocti Art Society ends 2019 by donating proceeds from its annual Kelseyville Pear Festival art raffle to the Lake County Art Council’s Summer Youth Art Program.

Each year KAS artists create pear-related art projects which are raffled at the Kelseyville Pear Festival.

Many of the KAS artists donate their time and expertise teaching art to Lake County youth.

Barbara Funke, Annette Higday, Jeanne Landon-Myers and Gerri Groody were happy to present this donation. Artists of KAS not shown in picture are- Leah Adams, Phyllis Thiessen, Patty Oates, Karen Magnuson, Judy Cardinale, Jo Bergesen, Jan Hambrick, Carolyn Morris, Diane Stawicki, Diana Liebe, Barbara Kossen, Karen Hook, Gay McComb, Iman Griffith, Linda Crayne and Lucia Boyle.

Sometimes a poem can seem to be like a jeweler's setting, in which a gemlike image is presented.

This one, by Chase Twichell, who lives in upstate New York, has one of those perfect gems of observation in the "cinnamon swirls" of sand on the surface of the road. I'll never seen sand on the road again without thinking of this.

It's from her new book, “Things as It Is,” from Copper Canyon Press.

After Snow

I'm the first car after the sander.
The cinnamon swirls of fresh sand are intact.

Except for that—the sand and the road—

The woods look as if they might have
a thousand years ago, except for

the absence of tracks.

American Life in Poetry doe not accept unsolicited manuscripts. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation, publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2018 by Chase Twichell, "After Snow," from Things as It Is, (Copper Canyon Press, 2018). Poem reprinted by permission of Chase Twichell and the publisher. Introduction copyright @2019 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

‘KNIVES OUT’ (Rated PG-13)

A thoroughly modern makeover of a murder mystery worthy of Agatha Christie, “Knives Out” is a razor-sharp take on the classic elements of the genre with an all-star ensemble of thespians well-suited to delivering a stylish entertainment.

The recipe for writer-director Rian Johnson’s whodunit is steeped in the timeless formula that undergirds most murder mysteries, namely taking a group of eccentrics, mixing with a handful of faithful staff, adding one dead body, and then letting a detective sort it out.

The element of death is that of world-famous author and family patriarch Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer) on the night of his 85th birthday celebration at his gothic mansion attended by his extended family members.

As a successful mystery writer, Harlan may have been able to foresee how his death would play out during an investigation of what is either a suicide or a matter of foul play while relishing the havoc that would ensue for his covetous deadbeat relatives.

Harlan’s snooty eldest daughter, Linda (Jamie Lee Curtis), is a chip off the old block. A driven, self-made businesswoman, she shares much in common with her deceased father. But is it suspicious that she immediately resists the intrusion of a detective’s inquiry into family affairs?

Linda’s dashing husband, Richard (Don Johnson), is second-in-command at his wife’s successful real estate business. He certainly enjoys the privileges of wealth, and as a philanderer he’s too slick not to be a suspect.

The only son of Linda and Richard is Ransom (Chris Evans), an aimless, spoiled, trust fund kid. As the black sheep of the family without a moral compass, Ransom was overheard having a nasty argument with his grandfather on the night of the birthday party.

Harlan’s youngest son, Walt (Michael Shannon), may be running the family publishing business but his inferiority complex is only heightened when his plans for a major expansion are torpedoed by Harlan’s refusal to cooperate.

Walt’s wife Donna (Riki Lindhome) seems on the verge of about to snap at any moment, and their rebellious son, Jacob (Jaeden Martell), is a scowling prep school bad boy who trolls the internet.

The widow of Harlan’s deceased older son, Joni (Toni Collette), struggles to keep her lifestyle business afloat, while her daughter Meg (Katherine Langford) needs financial aid for her college education. Both of them rely heavily on the largesse of the Thrombey fortune.

Rounding out the Thrombey clan is the family’s eldest member, dear old Nana (K Callan), who’s so old no one even knows her age. Though a woman of few words, she could be more observant than anyone else, possibly aware of some important clues to solve the mystery.

The most relevant staff member in the household is Marta Cabrera (Ana de Armas), the daughter of undocumented immigrants. As Harlan’s trusted caregiver, she was possibly the last one to see him alive. What secret is she trying to conceal?

The Hercule Poirot in this murder investigation is Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc, a Southern-fried private eye who was mysteriously hired by an anonymous party to join Lieutenant Elliott (LaKeith Stanfield) and Trooper Wagner (Noah Segan) to interview all suspects.

The fact of a wound to Harlan’s neck and a knife still in his cold hand suggests an obvious open-and-shut case of suicide to the police lieutenant and state trooper. But to the renowned Benoit Blanc that’s all too convenient as he suspects foul play.

Interestingly, Blanc enlists the help of Marta, a doe-eyed innocent, who turns out to be incapable of telling a lie without uncontrollably vomiting. She proves a useful ally for the private eye to chip away at each family member’s dubious alibi.

Moreover, at least on the surface, Marta has less reason for any personal grievance or motive in the death of her beloved employer. Her job is secure with Harlan, and the claim of the Thrombey clan that she’s a member of the family is an obviously insincere sentiment.

Even more importantly, the solicitous Marta appears to be the most normal person in the Thrombey household despite her propensity for an unnatural reaction to mendacity. As a result, should Marta be the likely one above suspicion?

The film has many flashbacks, but even knowing how Thrombey died is only cause to raise more skepticism. Blanc refers to the case as one with a hole in the middle, referring to a donut hole that ends up with only more holes.

One of the film’s best moments comes when the family lawyer (Frank Oz) gathers the entire Thrombey clan for a reading of Harlan’s will, which serves to trigger more acrimonious recriminations and harsh misgivings.

The joys of a good murder mystery are many, from the red herrings that grow more frequent and twisted to the layers of weirdness and eccentricities of the sycophantic family members under suspicion.

“Knives Out,” which entertains with its witty dialogue and lively shenanigans delivered by delectably oddball characters, should spark a comeback for more whodunits that are just as clever.

Tim Riley writes film and television reviews for Lake County News.

A wise and loving father fishing with his two sons.

Norman Maclean wrote about a time like that in his book “A River Runs Through It,” and here's a poem by Todd Davis that catches much the same feeling in far fewer words.

That's not to denigrate Maclean but to point out that there are many ways for us to write about our lives.

The poet lives in Pennsylvania and this poem is from his book “Native Species,” published by Michigan State University Press.

Thankful for Now

Walking the river back home at the end
of May, locust in bloom, an oriole flitting
through dusky crowns, and the early night sky
going peach, day's late glow the color of that fruit's
flesh, dribbling down over everything, christening
my sons, the two of them walking before me
after a day of fishing, one of them placing a hand
on the other's shoulder, pointing toward a planet
that's just appeared, or the swift movement
of that yellow and black bird disappearing
into the growing dark, and now the light, pink
as a crabapple's flower, and my legs tired
from wading the higher water, and the rocks
that keep turning over, nearly spilling me
into the river, but still thankful for now
when I have enough strength to stay
a few yards behind them, loving this time
of day that shows me the breadth
of their backs, their lean, strong legs
striding, how we all go on in this cold water,
heading home to the sound of the last few
trout splashing, as mayflies float
through the shadowed riffles.


American Life in Poetry does not accept unsolicited manuscripts. It is made possible by The Poetry Foundation, publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2019 by Todd Davis, "Thankful for Now," from Native Species, (Michigan State University Press, 2019). Poem reprinted by permission of Todd Davis and the publisher. Introduction copyright @2019 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.