The Beat Was There: Craig Arnold

I have no complaints about the platter of poetry I've sampled at this reading. Craig Arnold, with his peppered method of reading and spicy delivery, takes us on a tasty ride through the realm of narrative poetry in his new book Made Flesh.

He starts with "Couples from Hell," at a point unseen as the middle, and seamlessly transforms the room into a gallery of oratory experience. Immediately I note his articulate use of alliteration and punctuated accent through the reading. As he progresses, I find myself being sent on a wave of sensory outbursts ending with bread, butter, coffee, and a deeper hunger for more.

And this is still his opening poem. The rest of the evening would electrify my senses into further dancing.

His poems exhibit well-placed changes in movement, colorful and contrasting. His poem "Mistral" sent me through the frantic reds of city life to peaceful greens of a calming Easter Monday. "A Place of First Permission" had me swinging to vibrant hues and party beats Arnold himself could only describe best: "The whole world is poured into the deep bowls of my hips." It was a point where Arnold's "jazz" hit me. The beat was there, thriving successfully in the air and on the page.

I can't stress enough the sensory candy I felt my brain exposed to. "Made Flesh" was a perfect example, calling (for me, at least) all five senses to the stage to play, mingle, and mold into a tasty web for my mind to eat up.

Arnold possesses a talent drenched in his mastery of the craft. For a fellow member of the Front Range, I'm proud!

by Rebecca Levin