I'd love to see
Billeh Nickerson write a novel or maybe a play for young adults, and
I hope he does it soon so that when my daughter's the right age she
can read it or see it--or better yet, act in it. Judging from McPoems,
Nickerson's understanding of this age group and their fears and frustrations
is acute and nuanced, and his infectious warmth and humour would be
a perfect antidote to teenage angst.
That's not to say
that McPoems is a book for kids. But it would certainly appeal
to teens who are currently working in the food service industry (and
would make a great gift for them). Of course, many of us have done a
tour of duty in the restaurant business at one time or another, yet
to my knowledge, McPoems represents the first time that anyone
has brought sustained poetic attention to this setting or this type
of work. Work is an underwritten topic in the first place; minimum-wage
service work is perhaps the most underwritten of all. As Nickerson shows
us, it's a worthy subject. The poems in this book aren't complicated,
but they're observant, funny, poignant and compassionate.
Nickerson's choice
of the second-person voice puts us in the position of the food service
worker. We're standing at the fryer, we're wiping down the walls (and
wiping down the walls, and wiping down the walls) (46-47); we're pouring
the orange and brown drinks, "regular brown, diet brown or root" (39).
In addition to being written in the second person, many of these poems
are also in the present tense, which adds to their immediacy.
The unnamed (but
recognizable) fast-food restaurant presents numerous dangers and temptations
to the "you" of these poems: the opportunity to overeat; unfair management
practices; accidents; low wages; exposure to crazy people; and the arrogance
that might result from the need to distinguish oneself from them. If
these sound awfully similar to the temptations and dangers of the wider
world, that's just as Nickerson wants it. The "you" of the poems is
curious and sensitive to social nuance. Gradually, as we make our way
through the book, observed and observer merge; the "crazies" don't seem
quite so crazy when "you" listen to their stories, or when you find
yourself doing some pretty crazy things yourself in response to your
work conditions.
As one might expect,
there's plenty of humour here. Sometimes the joke is at the expense
of another: "the Unicorn always orders a soft-serve cone,/ then sticks
it to the top of his forehead . . ." (24). Sometimes the joke is on
the self:
Hot Apple
Pie
Burns your tongue so badly
you can't taste anything
three days later
when you order another. (23)
But our laughter
is never unkind, because Nickerson's compassion is evident from the
first page. He even finds a kind of beauty here; "Alchemy" dignifies
the gold of ordinary fries.
And all is not
sweet in McPoem-land. Nickerson may once have earned recognition as
an "outstanding employee," but his insider's view of the industry probably
won't win him many fans at corporate headquarters.
Minimum Wage
After six months your manager offers
his congratulations, thanks you
for all your hard work
by giving you a twenty-five cent raise
that you'll lose in two weeks
when the minimum wage goes up. (73)
The very accessibility
of the language is a political statement; this is not poetry for an
elite, but for the ordinary people who eat in fast-food restaurants.
The critique is not barbed, but it has bite.
McPoems
goes down fast, in a gulp, but it stays with us. Not, like fast food,
to give us indigestion, but instead to remind us of our common humanity.
Its poems invite us to treat our servers with kindness and to look with
kindness on all the sad and lonely souls who pass under the golden arches;
to look with kindness on ourselves.