In “Living Wages,” Michael Chitwood displays Robert Frost’s love of manual labor and his simplicity of language and everyday imagery coupled with depth of thought and feeling.
Something’s being painted or patched.
The rattle of the handy, portable
rack of stairs is a sound like no other.
The shudder of the extension,
as one reach rides its twin
up until it’s twice as long as it began.
Good work needs good assistance
and what a clever commotion this is.
There are no weak poems in this collection, no twaddle of seeking the “experimental” which too often means the inconsequential phrased as the incommunicable. Chitwood speaks cleanly and clearly and reaches the heart’s muscle fiber.