The Human Engine at Dawn is Michigan native Jim Daniels’ newest chapbook of poems, published by Wolfson Press. That’s his grandfather on the cover, on the left, working on an engine at the Packard Motor Car Company in Detroit. Jim’s other books include Gun/Shy (poetry), The Perp Walk (fiction), and the anthology RESPECT: The Poetry of Detroit Music (coedited with M. L. Liebler). Born and raised in Detroit, he lives in Pittsburgh and teaches in the Alma College low-residency MFA program.
“The ghost behind these haunted and haunting poems is the bittersweet and stunningly detailed memory of his formative years in blue-collar Detroit, echoed sometimes in his present home of Pittsburgh. The latter (much less the former) isn’t Paris, he admits, but then, “Fuck Paris.” With The Human Engine at Dawn, Jim Daniels remains among this country’s most gifted and engaging poets.”
—William Trowbridge, author of Call Me Fool
Gospel
I saw the great blue heron today,
still, above the flat horizon, staring
as I passed on my bike. Some mornings
I admit, I scare it into rising just to see
those wide whispering wings spread
over grape vines clenched into earth
in bright green rows. Nothing is here
for my amusement. The heron fishes
in the small stream where the narrow road
turns. Easy pickings. Today, I don’t scare it.
My son dropped sticks off the narrow bridge
into that stream 20 years ago—a man now,
and I’m sad for it on days like this. Thousands
of miles away, he sings songs I’ve never heard.
Look, I’d say to him, and point. He’s not here
for my amusement, getting on with it, screwing up,
muddling through. We used to watch current carry
those twigs till they disappeared. Sometimes
it’s so quiet I can hear wings. The heron, straight,
graceful pin above flatlands along the stream.
To dig our roots deeper, or to fly? How to hide
nests, protect our young? My son is tall some-
where out there. We build nests one thin stick
at a time. The sticks never disappear. I don’t
want to live far from water. My amusement
is finite. Leaves on the vines redden
and wither while elsewhere fruit ferments
into wine. It’s an old story, I know,
but teach me the words, my son.
“Jim Daniels. Singer of the broken city. Ishmael of lost families and foundered dreams. Virgil of what he calls “our poorly wired world.” These poems are deep dives into Daniels’ past, and a past Detroit. The portraits of his mother and father are unforgettable, both for their blunt, unsentimental honesty and their tenderness. Again and again Daniels manages to unearth bright shards of beauty in the bleak alleyways and poverty-haunted streets of the city. And there’s an ode here to his father’s bowling ball that will knock you down, that will roll you right back to the smoky, beer-soaked heart of the last century. The Human Engine at Dawn, in its dark and lyrical urgency, reminds me of why I came to poetry in the first place.”
—George Bilgere, author of Central Air
Purchase The Human Engine at Dawn from Wolfson Press or Amazon
ISBN 97819500666148, 40 pages, $1
Jim Daniels was on the faculty of the creative writing program at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburg, PA, where he was the Thomas Stockham Baker University Professor of English. He taught in the Antioch University-Los Angeles low-residency MFA Program from 2007-2021. He currently teaches in the Alma College low-residency MFA Program.
The majority of Daniels’ papers are held in Michigan State University Libraries Special Collections. Daniels’ literary works have been recognized and highlighted at Michigan State University in their Michigan Writers Series. He lives in Pittsburgh with his wife, writer Kristin Kovacic.
Thank you for visiting!
Linda K. Sienkiewicz is a writer, poet, and artist.
Learn more about her multi-award winning novel, In the Context of Love.
Learn more about her picture book, Gordy and the Ghost Crab.
Learn more about her poetry chapbook, Security
Visit LinkTree for all Linda’s social media links.