Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

Nick Toczek, THE BOOK OF NUMBERS; Aqulla Publications - from the author at 103 Moorhead Lane, Shipley, Yorkshire. 25p.

On the cover of’The Book of Numbers’ the author smiles, as if he has a secret, from an open doorway in a photograph the warm brown colour of a daguerreotype. On turning over the title and contents pages I saw that ‘this one’s for Nick and Shins’, a dedication casual enough for me to expect a friendly and unpompous content.

     As the title of this 20 page publication implies, the pieces are to do with, though not reliant on, numbers - ‘12 bore’,’8 bugs’, ‘8 ways it could have happened’, ‘32 steps’, ‘12,13,14,15,16’, etc. For example, ‘16 listed without explanation’ is a list of 16 phrases, ideas without, at least to me, any obvious connection. Certainly not a poem, but definitely a list, and more interesting than the sort one takes to the shops.

     There are another three pieces in visual poem form. ‘12 bore’, about the shooting of a hare, would have been more powerful in its impact, I feel, if Mr Toczek had not employed rhyme, which seemed to restrict the swift and violent movements underpinning the piece. ‘4 1/2 years for this’ was more successful - a monologue directed at a lady friend. In almost every line there was a pungent smell or taste or uncomfortable sensation or pain. ‘15 days in Edinburgh’, in my opinion, is the best piece in this form it flows, as Mr Toczek obviously did (10 pints a day sufficing) through the streets of his ancestors. Perhaps we all have an ‘Edinburgh’ to feel nostalgic and slightly claustrophobic about;

As I left on the train, I performed a small exorcism –
bus tickets from my pocket,
though what actually left my hand
was something of the strangeness of the place
and maybe something of myself. Old ghosts perhaps)?

     I wandered into the prose pieces eagerly and was sorry when, usually via an effective last line, I exited. In these Mr Toczek invites us to share his experience without pomp, guessing that we probably have our own 8 bugs in the bathroom also, or our 30 steps up to the flat. The prose pieces are far more relaxed and less aware of themselves - why does the poem, I wonder, almost invariably take over when we struggle with it and distort what we want to say into a kind of Ill-fitting Sunday suit?

     ‘8 bugs’ is an entertaining piece to itch through. Bugs, moths, bluebottles have almost taken over the flat. They must be exterminated but, eventually, Mr Toczek confesses to a deep conscience about their killings. In ‘4 people’ the two hosts and their two guests spend a cosy evening together, the author finally alone, reviewing the evening and casting a look around at the remains:

4 people examined a fan, read a letter, discussed a photo,
filled 2 large ashtrays and found countless other things
by which to pass 3 1/2 hours. I take 4 mugs and 1 glass into
the kitchen to be washed tomorrow.

     ‘8 ways it could have happened’ is about the killing and eating of an eel. No conscience at the end of this piece. After various deaths, ‘the eel, fried in butter, tasted fine.’

     Mr Toczek is always varied in his subject matter, personal though It often is, and always interesting. ‘1973 presents the universal whore (for each of my unborn children at the moment of birth)’ is indeed different : an acid reaction to woman. The author seems to have suffered at her hands - and her……(as most of us have) but he conveniently refrains from examining himself - us - man.

     By contrast, ‘12,13,14,15,16’ is a sad and quite beautiful piece, an almost tearful glance back through young manhood at those first ‘magic’ explorations of the flesh - an elegy, in fact, to lost innocence.

     In this slim booklet , we are invited (no doubt through that half-open door on the cover) for just a glimpse of Mr Toczek’s more personal and domestic world & his not uncomfortably dramatic reactions to it. His writing is without the sentiment or pretension that it would have been easy to slip into, given his subjects. He balances successfully on a difficult tightrope between precision and self-indulgence. I didn’t exactly feel that I was intruding on his personal world but If, in certain places, he had indulged himself just a fraction more, I would certainly have left, quietly closing that door behind. Thank you, Nick Toczek.