‘Fat’
— Andrew Sargus Klein
I didn’t wake up yesterday morning expecting to feel the full-bodied warmth of a good party from my desk at work, but it happened anyway when I was brought into ‘Fat’ by Steven Leyva. There is no hesitation here; the poem throws the door open before you knock and you’re inside the thick energy of New Orleans and its local blend of existential joy, where “darkness fat as hamhock” and Zydeco basslines and fool’s gold all occupy the same space. The craft of this poem is so tight, so specific in its meter and emphasis, and yet it still brings a certain ecstatic delirium within its joy, death, history, bodies, music, and tongues. The wrecking ball at the end of it all is unexpected, devastating, and perfect.