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Certain Streets at an Uncertain Hour by Jeff Tigchelaar
Jeff Tigchelaar doesn't so much produce poetry as rescue it - from overheard conversations and discarded letters and library-desk graffi ti and his own stray "I'm in a manmade capsule hurtling through the sky/ so if I die I probably deserve it." This smart, serious, hilarious first book is a no-kill shelter for memorable speech. --Eric McHenry, Poet Laureate of Kansas In Certain Streets at an Uncertain Hour, Jeff Tigchelaar is our intimate tour guide through his own unique hands-on museum, from the wild and offbeat to the quiet and subtle. My favorite poems here sound like William Stafford on jumping beans. Tigchelaar demonstrates an impressive range in form, style, and tone, but what he shows throughout is that he's paying close, close attention to the world around him, with love and compassion. --Jim Daniels, author of Show and New and Selected Poems Jeff Tigchelaar in his debut collection has gathered sharply observed details of daily life into an artful collage. Here are prose poems, found poems, imagined and overheard dialogue, double abecedarians - all from his off-center point of view, always at and in play. --Wyatt Townley, 2013-2015 Kansas Poet Laureate Jeff Tigchelaar speaks directly to his readers about politics, moral choices, and the beauty he fi nds in an imperfect world. This debut collection shows a poet ready to suggest solutions. Join him as he makes a difference. --Denise Low, Mélange Block author, 2007-2009 Kansas Poet Laureate
102 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2015
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
March 25, 2016
Note: I'm reading a (short) stack of collections by four contemporary Kansas poets. This is #3 of 4.
I don’t read a lot of poetry and I definitely don't have any training in form (or lack thereof) so I came at these with an attitude of “I don’t know what’s considered ‘good’ but I know what I like.”
Some of these poems I liked a lot and some -- particularly the “found” and “overheard” ones -- were just random. The subject matter is widely varied, with more than a tinge of political commentary, and includes lots of nice turns of phrase. I love that it started with a poem about William Stafford, the granddaddy of Kansas poets (?). And the illustrations throughout are uniformly charming.
I don’t read a lot of poetry and I definitely don't have any training in form (or lack thereof) so I came at these with an attitude of “I don’t know what’s considered ‘good’ but I know what I like.”
Some of these poems I liked a lot and some -- particularly the “found” and “overheard” ones -- were just random. The subject matter is widely varied, with more than a tinge of political commentary, and includes lots of nice turns of phrase. I love that it started with a poem about William Stafford, the granddaddy of Kansas poets (?). And the illustrations throughout are uniformly charming.
December 27, 2015
What I first noticed when holding Jeff Tigchelaar’s Certain Streets at an Uncertain Hour is how beautiful it is. Charlotte Pemberton’s illustrations, on the cover and scattered throughout the pages, are thought-provoking, unexpected, sometimes funny, often haunting—and it turns out that these words also describe Tigchelaar’s poems perfectly.
The book is thought-provoking from the first poem, “Report to William Stafford”—its purposeful lack of punctuation made me unsure if the end of the page would also be the end of the poem. I hoped so, because it was such an understated way to conclude, and I was happy to turn the page and find a new poem. Later in the book, a found poem in which Tigchelaar has substituted “poets” for “stones” reveals “there is another way to think of poets:/ as airy, aware, conscious—as purses/ for time.”
Poems like “from Day Notes: Lawrence, Kansas (2012-2013)” wind around to such unexpected places, and just when I thought the poem had moved from one image to another, that first image would come back around, in a wholly new context. I also loved “It Never Happens,” the title I somehow forgot until I finished this very funny poem and then suddenly, inexplicably, felt sad.
In “George Brett’s Labradoodle,” the humor is in the hyperbole. The speaker notes the famed third-baseman and his missing dog live “within 30 miles of where we now sit./ Of where we now stand./ Of where we now rise/ to the occasion,/ to the call, where we go/ help a man in need.” Tigchelaar also has a talent for finding humor in the mundane, as in “I Am Trying to Help You,” about a weary dental clinic receptionist patiently and repeatedly explaining to a customer on the phone that they “don’t do dentures here, unfortunately.”
As for haunting—Tigchelaar might not have known what “Torn/ ado,” a collaboration with Charlotte Tigchelaar, age 5, would do to this reader, but the fact remains that I teared up thinking about the rainy afternoons I used to spend with my father at his typewriter, pounding out stories about kittens’ birthday parties. In Certain Streets at an Uncertain Hour, Tigchelaar finds beauty in what’s been lost or abandoned—he notices what others overlook. Please do not overlook this book—there is incredible depth within.
The book is thought-provoking from the first poem, “Report to William Stafford”—its purposeful lack of punctuation made me unsure if the end of the page would also be the end of the poem. I hoped so, because it was such an understated way to conclude, and I was happy to turn the page and find a new poem. Later in the book, a found poem in which Tigchelaar has substituted “poets” for “stones” reveals “there is another way to think of poets:/ as airy, aware, conscious—as purses/ for time.”
Poems like “from Day Notes: Lawrence, Kansas (2012-2013)” wind around to such unexpected places, and just when I thought the poem had moved from one image to another, that first image would come back around, in a wholly new context. I also loved “It Never Happens,” the title I somehow forgot until I finished this very funny poem and then suddenly, inexplicably, felt sad.
In “George Brett’s Labradoodle,” the humor is in the hyperbole. The speaker notes the famed third-baseman and his missing dog live “within 30 miles of where we now sit./ Of where we now stand./ Of where we now rise/ to the occasion,/ to the call, where we go/ help a man in need.” Tigchelaar also has a talent for finding humor in the mundane, as in “I Am Trying to Help You,” about a weary dental clinic receptionist patiently and repeatedly explaining to a customer on the phone that they “don’t do dentures here, unfortunately.”
As for haunting—Tigchelaar might not have known what “Torn/ ado,” a collaboration with Charlotte Tigchelaar, age 5, would do to this reader, but the fact remains that I teared up thinking about the rainy afternoons I used to spend with my father at his typewriter, pounding out stories about kittens’ birthday parties. In Certain Streets at an Uncertain Hour, Tigchelaar finds beauty in what’s been lost or abandoned—he notices what others overlook. Please do not overlook this book—there is incredible depth within.
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January 5, 2023quite different from the poetry I typically read, but still refreshing and enjoyable! a strong blend of silliness and seriousness, all characterized by tigchelaar’s very clear and endearing voice. loved how much of it takes place around kansas, of course.
September 29, 2022
not all bad
March 31, 2025
my favorite is Least Weasel, but there are lots of little gems in here.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews