Rumble Strip Paperback – April 19, 2007

Jason is a skilled craftsman and writes poetry in the 'shake-n-bake' school: he tosses stunning images and word combinations, and every experience in his life into a sack with his well-practiced sensibility, shakes it up, and records it as he pulls it out. What the hell am I talking about? Let's play 'flip-n-read,' I'll open the book to four places, at random, point to something, and write: From "Lambs Grove, Iowa": "Continue west to visit your friend, / a scarecrow with cancer for a brain." From "Toronado": "Two girls join us at the table / eating hot pizza from their purses." From "The Dead Man in the Piano": "There is no body, only clothed air, / his raincoat, grey slacks tangled in metal wire." From "Men at the Lamprey": "They give chase into the trees, / guns and hounds in hock. / Taste tender fat and tire tracks / with their tongues in moss." Isn't that beautiful? I look at it this way, if you wanted rhyme and meter, you'd probably not be reading modern poetry. If you wanted straightforward narrative, you'd probably be reading Time Magazine. But if you want volatile creativity, with a Boom! Boom! combination of danger and delight, you'll read Jason Tandon. He's young, he's honest, and he's probably good for a damned good story over a beer. The only starch here is in his credentials. (From "Ars Poetica...": "Two women at a window table poke a Peking duck." Poke that duck, ladies! Poke it!)

I came to this collection of poetry out of family obligation, viewing it as intimidating as a school assignment. (The author is a relative by marriage). I left feeling exhilarated, mostly by the fact that I "got" poetry, after all. You do not have to be a member of "high honors" English to enjoy the fantastic stories within. There were moments where I was laughing out loud, and some that made me hold my breath. The gorgeous, gorgeous use of language makes me want to read and re-read this collection. You will want to, too.