Hello, Poetry Friend
Recently Every Day Poems (here on Substack) ran Dave Malone’s poem “Hello, My Name Is Thomas.” I commented, “No one can draw such a vivid portrait of a person in a brief poem like Dave Malone.”
But wait — there are two people in this poem: the speaker and the grocery clerk. Both use the pronoun “I” to describe themselves, and there’s no clear line between one and the other. The more I read the poem, the less I am sure of who is who.
Hello, My Name Is Thomas after Sarah Morris I made it through the sixth grade before math became too hard and social studies a blur of dates like foggy windows here at the supermarket where I draw faces in the mist—Picasso, you are, says the oldest clerk who started at Price Chopper, the year I was born. I like birthdays, and I keep a memo pad with my favorite customers’ dates of birth when I hear them buying liquor or cigarettes or if they answer when I ask while sacking their groceries and placing milk and coffee and things in their carts in hard to soft order. That’s how my days go mostly. From waking up to walking to the store where no one makes fun of me. I like that because I got fired from my last job for hugging. —Dave Malone
On my first read I assumed the clerk was Thomas because clerks often wear nametags. But rereading makes me wonder if the speaker comes to know himself through the clerk. After all, it’s the clerk who gives the speaker a name: Picasso.
It’s a blurry poem. Cloudy. But I like clouds.
The clerk’s habit of writing down “favorite customers’ dates of birth” is either really creepy or really sweet. As is his being “fired from [his] last job for hugging.” He’s on the old side. He walks to work. He likes birthdays. But I’m not sure whether I want him making friends with Picasso. And I am equally charmed that he has.
I keep rereading the poem, with its fog and mist. I don’t know what to think. I love it.
Poetry Journal
Read the poem about Thomas (whoever he is). Jot down what you notice, what you like, what you don’t, what questions you have, and at least one way in which the poem speaks to you.
Price Chopper is a real grocery chain, but Malone could have used one with a more innocuous-sounding name. What is the effect of this store’s name on the poem?
Read the poem again, aloud (if you didn’t the first time). Is there anything you notice this time that you want to add to your journal?
Write your own poem using the title, Hello, My Name Is _____. (Mine is at meganwillome.com.) If you like, email me what you write.
Happy Poeming!
Megan
Registration for In Your Own Words is open at meganwillome.com! (But not for much longer!) Come join us and meet storms with words. Starts this coming Tuesday, September 5, the day after Labor Day.
Oh my gosh, Malone's last line, "I got fired for hugging." What a poem!
"I don't know what to think. I love it." This might be my favorite kind of response to reading poetry ever. Thank you.