What We’re Reading: Teahouse of the Almighty

Teahouse of the Almighty by Patricia Smith (Coffee House Press 2006)

Patricia Smith easily sits at the top of my favorite performance poets list, and this book embodies everything I love about her poetry (this book was a National Poetry Series Winner). I first started reading Smith’s work after hearing her perform at a Coffee House Press reading in Northeast Minneapolis last year. Her presence was a vortex of poetry, pulling the audience forward in their seats. Like many slam or performance poets, she writes about a lot of social issues, such as AIDs, sex, abuse, marriage, and much more. However, it never feels like Smith is preaching to us, because she prods and pulls apart these subjects with intense emotional heft.

This collection is a rich, dense feast of poetry, impossible to digest in one sitting. Instead, I suggest reading a few poems at a time, then taking a break to come back later, in order to let each poem settle in. The poems beg to be read out loud, each morsel of a fully tasted in all areas of the tongue. However, unlike many slam poets, Smith’s work still holds its power on the page alone. Her word choices, rhythm, and playfulness have a physicality to them that made me feel each word in my mouth, even while reading them flat on the page.

The poem “Women are Taught” exhibits Smith’s creative, refreshing turns of dialogue and thought, even while working with a heavy subject.

On the day I married, I was such porcelain,
delicate and poised to hatter. I was unflinching,
sure of my practiced vows,
already addicted to the sanctity of bondage.
I was an unfurled ballad in a scoop-necked
sheath carved of sugar. And him on my arm,
grinning like a bear, all sinew and swagger.
Bibles were everywere. Dizzied by rote,
I started at the gold rope around my finger.
He owned me.
And that felt nice.
That felt right.

the first time i hit her
I thought the loose tooth a temporary nightmare
the second time i hit her
He cried himself to sleep, and that was nice
that was right
the third time i hit her
He counted my scars and whispered never again
baby never again

Using multiple voices blurred together to tell the story makes it hit home in a powerful way. Yet, although she’s obviously mastered the big gesture poems, she’s also comfortable in smaller, quieter moments, such as in the poem “Little Poetry”:

I watch him undress, skin
unto another skin, and I turn
away to keep from craving that.

By the time his hands
touch my shoulders,
I am almost insane

with disappearing,
and the thunder.

Each poem is comfortable in its own skin, for better or for worse. Honesty, however close and uncomfortable it can be at times, is the tool that Smith uses to reach out of the pages to her reader.

What other performance and slam poets are especially adept at writing poetry that jumps off the page and into the mouth?