The text is Marvin K. White’s “From Containment to Expansion: A Tenderloin Meditation in Two Parts” (Poetry, July/August 2024).

Part 1 contains 82 the’s, 41 does not contain’s and 41 pairings that span the elemental (sun-fire), the metaphysical (circle-infinity), the spiritual (knee-prayer), the fanciful (moon-howl); the lyrical (sky-watcher), the clinical (bone-break), the barbaric (tree-lynch), and more.

The poem states serially that the first item does not contain the second item as with the following pairs: The seed does not contain the flower… The ore does not contain the iron… The desert does not contain the sand… The cane does not contain the sugar… The pitch does not contain the tar….

The multivalence of the verb “contain” spring-loads the conceit. Containment is both a state and an act, implying absence on the one hand and quelled release on the other. Each of the poem’s 41 negations can be counted erroneous: “A” is not devoid of “B,” after all, but rather harbors “B” within itself, actually or potentially.

But then each statement is affirming for the second meaning of “contain,” which is to hold in abeyance or restrain actualization. The seed does not clutch the flower, it foments bloom. The desert doesn’t hold fast to its sands, they travel by wind. Iron and sugar are coaxed from ore and cane through refining. In no case does one member of the duo contain the other.

The dynamic turns dark with certain pairs: gun-murder, tongue-lie, danger-blackness, neck-choke, iron-chain. But the poem surrounds that darkness.

Part 2 is a soaring, incantational homily in spoken talk: irruptive, expansive, lyrically down to earth, profusely direct, associative, exultant, commanding, inspiriting. Quoting from the passage is like skimming a flat rock over limpid water and willing it to bounce again, again and yet again.

[…] I walk to work every day. You’d know that if you decided that living was your job. Your breath smell like Goddrunk. God the designated driver. God get you home safe. God make you laugh like they do in the movies. That’s what that feeling of silliness, of lucidity, of divinity is. That’s what this story is. Difference is, this morning don’t need to spill Mary’s blood. […] If you hear me singing, “Increase My Territory,” I ain’t asking for more, I’m asking less. That’s the lessen. I’m in the thought of God. Thought of God. Make sense? So unselfish. So much honor. I’m in service. I’m stronger in this wake than when I lay down to sleep. I’m gon’ do what is expected of me. You heard right. I’m expected. And anything expected cannot be contained.

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