Frank's Blog: Lockdown Letters & Other Poems by Paul Marion: A Review

In the past year, and a little more, we Americans endured a crisis that few of us envisioned. A microscopic virus threatened to end our lives and perhaps our society.

We had prepared for nuclear war and we had concerns over the deteriorating environment and climate change but few of us thought a virus would bring on an apocalyptic mass death. Even those who fiercely denied the reality of the Corona Virus, knew the fear and reality of the infection was altering our lives and culture.

We took action, sheltered ourselves, practiced something new, a concept of ‘social distancing.’ Many of us found ourselves working at home, if we managed to keep our jobs. We stayed indoors, no movies, no concerts, no mass gatherings of any sort. Some binged watched movies or old TV shows, others played games, video or otherwise,many tried all sorts of new recipes, while others still read libraries of books. Paul Marion and I wrote poetry and essays.

I met Paul Marion in the summer of 2003 when I followed my then wife to New England,(she for a business conference, me to make a pilgrimage to the home of Jack Kerouac, and to see Boston.) He came to a Lowell, Massachusetts book store while I was there searching for Kerouac books and memorabilia. I overheard him tell the clerk that he was promoting items and literature concerning Kerouac. I had to intoduce myself thus beginning a fascinating friendship. I had read Marion’s collection of Kerouac works “Atop At Underwood,” and I was excited to meet him. We kept in touch and met agaim in September of 2007, when I returned to Lowell for the 50th anniversary celebration of the Kerouac classic “On the Road.”

Now, Marion has published “The Lockdown Letters & Other Poems.” It is a collection of poetry and essays, most of which focusing on the pandemic of the past year. It is published by Loom Press. In this work, Marion chronicles the rapid growth of the virus and the subsequent terror and panic that spread faster than the disease itself.

The letters start with an entry for March 7th. I was taken by the two entries for March 13th. That was the day I had my last in-person doctor appointment for over a year. It was the first time I saw a man wearing a mask to protect himself and others from the virus. It was also the last time I went grocery shopping for over a year, too.

My doctor, a youthful Chinese woman, told me that, indeed this virus was something to be very concerned about. Yes, I should stay six feet away from people and it is not an overreaction to begin wearing a mask. I had to make a quick shopping trip after the appointment. My usually orderly grocery store had turned into a scene of frantic mayhem. Panic buying of toilet paper has since become legend. I did not feel safe and began ordering my groceries on line, to be delivered to my doorstep.

Paul Marion and I had already believed that the U.S. President was a despicable illegitimate office holder. Through an intentional design flaw in the U.S. Constitution, this sad sample of humanity was elevated to the presidency. At a time when we needed a serious minded intellect to hold the office, this buffoon was in power. Marion notes in the March 13th entries was “overmatched by the virus.” In other entries Marion noted that this being took the virus as a personal affront, not a serious threat to the people’s health. It was a sentiment I shared. This was the time for a Roosevelt, a Truman, Lincoln or Kennedy, not a reality tv host who said this deadly virus was a hoax.

As April approaches, there is little mention of baseball in this letter portion of the book. There is no talk of the upcoming spring, either. Marion writes of new recipes being tried, the whereabouts of people he knows, as the number of infections increase and the death toll rises.

Marion then moves on, literally, as he recalls in a series of poems his travels across Europe. He follows the trail his father had made during another life threatening crisis, World War Two. The world was much more peaceful 74 years later, in 2019. He reflects on a wide series of subjects. For a few weeks, at least the focal point for the spread of the carona virus was in New Rochelle, New York. That immediately struck a chord with Marion and me. The Dick Van Dyke Show portrayed to me the adult life I presumed I would have. I’d even projected having a wife much like the fictional Laura Petrie. Rob and Laura Petrie lived in New Rochelle. Marion reflects on this supposed ideal life, as it was transmitted electronically. This reference shows a strong kinship with a man from south Texas. Marion’s universal expressions about events of his childhood strongly my own. He recalls John Glenn’s orbital fight, when was eight and I seven. That was the first manned space flight I ever followed and watched. He also recollected the Cuban Missile Crisis. My first true poem was about that near world ending confrontation. Even more striking was his account of the space shuttle Columbia’s crash into east Texas in February of 2003. This horrid even happened days before his son’s birthday. I was on the radio in Brenham, Texas. While reading the Saturday morning news on the air, I received calls about a strange bright streak in the sky. In moments seven astronauts, sailors of the stars, were dead, lost forever.

The & Other Poems parts of this collection is filled not with narrative in the tradtional sense, but, much like William Carlos Williams, paints images with words. He is particularly masterful in “Atlantic Corona”, in which he stands outside in the early morning “but did not count the stars.” Then goes on to write there is no “ending for the crown’s spiky fit.” It is in the sections “Dream of Perfect Games” does the faithful baseball afficionado Marion write of baseball. He is both angry and sad at the truncated Major League season concocted in the lockdown in the poem “Minor League Poet.”. He laments that the shortened season “sucks pickled eggs in Boston.” He notes how the MLB network is filled with replays of games played before and the sad news that Tom Seaver and Lou Brock died days apart during the Covid lockdown. Other poems deal with the games he played as a child. Marion includes a commentary about a poetry contest with a French Canadian friend and fellow hockey fan and a lengthy email recounting the amazing and legendary Red Sox victory in the 2004 World Series.

All these stories, essays, poems and emails from “Lockdown Letters & Other Poems” share a clear vision of the nation and the world in this past critical and tragic year. Through this Paul Marion contrasts the life we had before. Perhaps, now we shall return.