book review by daithí
Baron Wormser was once described by Tony Hoagland as “a beautiful writer of the meditative-narrative poem in the compassionate and lucid style of Frost, Hayden Carruth, and Donald Hall.” Such a description of the poet’s craft is evident in Wormser’s most recent book of poetry, James Baldwin Smoking a Cigarette by Baron Wormser.(Copyright © 2026 Janet Wormser./ Slant Books, P.O. Box 60295, Seattle, WA 98160, www.slantbooks.org )
Wormser’s poems hone in on persons or objects to offer us insight. For instance, a newly-wed bride goes to a movie in which Joan Crawford lives a different life on the screen than herself. Or there is a young boy who waits at a bus stop and shares his anxious inner thoughts just as the driver swings open the doors to welcome him aboard. Expect other surprises: a nephew both drawn to and appalled by his uncle’s behavior or a grocery store bagger by the name of Ted, with an enormous nose, who works at a local store prior to its demise by the Big Chain stores.
There is a collective Doppler effect as you read more and more of Baron Wormser’s poems. While the persons and objects, like the old Pontiac in “We Wondered,” seem singular when first read, they gather together and leave a second larger impression. The pitch of each poem is magnified by the pitch of others. What is left for me as a reader may be that, as the phrase goes, the train has left the station. You have either bought a ticket or have been left behind. But wait … there’s a twist. We are the consumers of our material and spiritual existence, whether we happen to be Jack Kerouac, James Baldwin, or even Ted, the bagger of groceries.
So, we can surrender to circumstances or stand resolutely in forging our own future. Take the “Zooming” poem, for instance, where “Our masters have bequeathed us…more miracles” and offered virtual communication to “be there, be there./Even if you aren’t.” And yet, upon reflection, the poet has a different view:
And recall a childhood morning, sitting in
The backyard with you, eating ripe strawberries,
Juice running down our chins, giggling, the sun
Striking our faces. More real now than anything.
Ultimately, Wormser shares his insightful poems with us in the hope that we will gather the wisdom from them and achieve discernment while still conscious.