A Book Of Poetry From An Old Comrade

Today I happily received a book of poetry from an old comrade, J. Quinn Brisben. It's entitled, I Saw This: New and Old Poems and is put out by Scars Publications. He sent me a copy after I took an interest during our brief conversation a couple of weeks ago, when Frank P. Zeidler died. As with the last book of his he sent (The Significance of the Frontier) he simply wrote, "For Darren Lyle, In Comradeship, J. Quinn Brisben." I hoped that he would have written more, something to make me look special (Quinn has a lot of comrades).

Since the mail slid through the lacquered brass slot in my front door, I've given our relationship some thought. I put down a delightfully-vulgar novel I've been reading, Perfume, and consumed some newly-received poetry. My fawning admiration for anyone who manages to get a book published (who is not already famous) makes it certain that I'll treasure my gift. But there is so much more than that; my genuine respect for Quinn leads me to the conclusion that I'm really lucky to know the man at all.

People who know me know that I absolutely despise myself. Enough of that, I've written about that and it's so boring, and at this point I don't think anything will change how I feel. I do respect myself for admiring all the right people, though. That includes my friends, who do things like write novellas just for the fun of it, maintain a modicum of idealism even while engaged in soul-crushing jobs, and those who fight against ignorance and cruelty. Because I'm such a wretched failure (which one cannot be without attempting to succeed), I'm in awe of what my friends manage to accomplish.

Naturally, given that I'm a person of no consequence, I don't know how flattering any of this will be to those around me. It's worth mentioning, though, that the world is full of people who have given up. They embrace ignorace and cynicism, and mock those who see the possibility of a world with just a little less misery than a minute before. I don't hate them, at least in the abstract. But I sure as hell don't admire them. And so many enjoy favored celebrity or high office...we're not talking about a few miscreants of no regard.