Kevin Young - Boasts

BOASTS


Wouldn’t be no fig leaf
if I was Adam

but a palm tree.

* * *

Once I danced all
night, till dawn

& I---who never
did get along---

decided to call a truce---
my body

buckets lighter,
we shook hands

& called it blues.

* * *

Mama, I’m the man
with the most

biggest feet---
when I step out

my door to walk the dog
round the block

I’m done.


---Kevin Young


Kevin Young's Boasts


It was time for humor on this blog and with Boasts Kevin Young gives us a few reasons to laugh. Last year I focused on how Kevin Young builds an emotional charge, while also rhythmically building the blues in his poem Song Of Smoke. This year we get to see that same rhythmic skill on display, but Young compliments it by flexing his comedic muscles. A boastful and boisterous speaker bombards readers with tales of his physical prowess. It's up to readers to decide how reliable our speaker is in this poem, but it's also up to readers to decide if that really matters. Honestly, would you enjoy this poem any less if you knew the speaker was essentially talking himself up? Boasts is a great example of a poem that doesn't require deep analysis or prodding at hidden meanings to enjoy. All you have to do to enjoy this poem is read it, preferably aloud; trust me, it's a poem that begs to be read aloud. I dare you to read this poem out loud and not break into the cocky voice that Kevin Young so clearly equipped this poem with.

Any doubt about what type of poem Boasts is going to be is answered in the first three lines. “Wouldn't be no fig leaf / if I was Adam / but a palm tree.” Oh, so that's how it's gonna be. I see. The brash voice is unavoidable, and yet it has a strangely attractive quality to it. Not only is the voice blatantly witty and funny, but I find myself attracted to the voice (and the poem) because it's inherently insecure. If these boasts are true then why toot your own horn? Without attention and validation from others, our speaker is not fulfilled. Sure this is shallow, but aren't we all on some level. That human quality grounds the speaker for me, even as he tries so hard to distinguish himself from everyone else.

Showmanship in music is common, especially in the blues, where a level of mystery and mythology validates blues musicians. I've read a fair amount of articles and book chapters about Robert Johnson, WC Handy, Son House, and plenty of other early blues musicians and I can't tell you what in their pasts was truth and what was invented. Besides having funky nicknames, it seems you had to have a murky past to be a good bluesman. Kevin Young allows the speaker in Boasts to create his own past:

Once I danced all
night, till dawn

& I---who never
did get along---

decided to call a truce---
my body

buckets lighter,
we shook hands

& called it blues.

Internal strife and battling oneself is not a foreign concept to the blues, although such struggle is normally preceded by longing for a woman or booze. In this case, Kevin Young steers his speaker clear of those time honored blues instigators. The culprit instead seems to be good old fashioned hubris. A night of challenging himself to dance on through the pain, exhaustion, and “buckets” of sweat ultimately ends in a “truce” that places our speaker on the same level as the almighty blues. To some blues purists this might sound heretical, but to me it appears Young's speaker is offering a tribute to the form.

After a moment of admiration through immersion, the blues gives way to the boasts that led the poem off. Our speaker returns to declaring the dominance of his physical features: “Mama, I’m the man / with the most / biggest feet---” You don't say? Well good for you speaker, but there's got to be some reason Kevin Young has you telling us that, making it nearly impossible to read this poem and not become distracted by the sexual innuendos. The reason for these sexual boasts about his decidedly male body part comes into focus with the poem's very abrupt ending. So this is just my theory and please feel free to disagree with me, but I'm convinced that the end of the poem is Kevin Young's very clever way of metaphorically simulating premature...well let's just say performance. I think you catch my drift. After all these boasts about his parts, the speaker reaches the brief poem's conclusion and ends with a final “I'm done.” Nothing more, just that. Even if it was unintentional of his part, Kevin Young links the poem's form and subject matter in a uniquely human way. I know that the last metaphor about walking the dog around the block could be viewed differently, but I've presented my case and I'm sticking to it.