TWIST

Spang delves into his tormented past, sexual identity, and lifelong search for authenticity in this emotionally layered poetry collection.

Initially, the poems in this collection focus on the author’s coming of age. In “The Child of Frankenstein,” Spang describes himself as a third grade boy with “buckteeth, / a crewcut, and a body mom / called ‘husky.’” In “Tutorial,” he experiences his first French kiss with a friend named Michael. When a friend shares a Playboy magazine with him in “Unbecoming a Man,” Spang is indifferent, sensing that “a riptide had already dragged / me far out to sea, in a rudderless / skiff, in another direction.” Childhood trauma is also a prominent theme here, as explored in “Spanking,” where the poet recalls his father’s belt “unloosened / like a slick tongue” before it hit him. Spang also analyzes a “Photo of My Father as a Boy,” pondering how his father’s obsession with physical appearance mirrored Spang’s attempts to “look right” by marrying, having children, working hard, and dressing professionally. The poet describes the apprehension of revisiting his childhood home as an adult, where the current owner insists on taking him “deep / into the vault of yesterday,” which prompts some heavy soul-searching on the author’s part. Eventually we find the author learning to accept and even appreciate his journey, which led to marrying his husband and building a peaceful, loving domestic life.

Spang lays bare not just intimate moments but also painful and pivotal events, from the end of his 25-year first marriage due to his wife’s affair to how “pleasure erupted out of me” with his first boyfriend after coming out at 48. The author’s family memories recounted in verse will surely resonate with readers, whether it’s a scene where Spang’s father tenderly carries him to bed and kisses him goodnight, or when Spang and his 3-year-old daughter search for their stolen “Mr. Pumpkin” the morning after Halloween. The scenes of Spang’s parents are intricate and evocative; he describes his father napping, limbs “spread out / as if he’d fallen from / an enormous height,” and his mother ice-skating, “whipping around in a spin, / her arms folded across her chest, / whirling, her body a blur.” Nature descriptions are equally crisp, from the way “wind leans against the window” to the “fierce caresses” of the sea. Spang’s similes are also distinctive and deftly crafted: At a high-school dance, he notices, “Some couples seemed to be grooving, really hummin’ / in their own galaxy, while others like my friend / and me circulated like planets through the dark / immensity of the gym.” Readers will no doubt root for Spang, who ultimately arrives at some hard-won truths about his life, in which he knows “what matters are those breathing / here beside me, this world / I never want to leave.” The book’s only weakness is its excessive length; though Spang’s writing is riveting throughout, more thorough editorial pruning would have increased the power of these poems.

A consistently rich and rewarding poetry collection about being true to oneself.