Max’s Musings: Judith Skillman

Our country is in utter dysphoria!

Whenever I stumble upon a Seattle poet, they’re immediately placed into the center of my poetry pool for discussion. Seattle poets and artists hold a treasure trove of melodious muses and other inspirations that other creatives refrain from grasping and tapping into.

Judith Skillman, Seattle author of Red Town, crafts a fictional town through a handful of poems that reflect on one’s past self and the experiences weaved within, around, and through. Reviewer Beth Bently claims that an “ordinary experience undergoes a surgical probe to reveal the underpinnings of relationships, ancestral connections, memories from childhood. No event is too slight to remain unexamined”. Red Town is a perfect example of coming to terms with one’s dark past to move to a future of pure gold.

Of all the poems in Red Town, I finally concluded that Skillman’s poem “Dysphoria” was necessary to share, with it only being one month since Donald Trump regained office. Although Red Town was published in 2001, I could not help but ponder how this poem relates to the present status of our country. It’s almost like Skillman possessed a prophetic eye through her poetry. Reviewer Bart Baxter praises her “stubborn appetite for beauty and a consistent accuracy of rhythm” which is evident throughout the course of her collection.

DYSPHORIA

Once the clock was famous,

there was a state of health in the nation.

 

Coffee perked,

the kettle sat under its crocheted cover.

 

Don’t be mum. Don’t slouch so

in and out of depression.

 

Remember there was singing sometimes.

She who had many faces has been reduced to one.

 

A tourist in a small town outside Paris,

she lay with her head in the grass

 

and watched the horses pick their way.

The American man in tall black boots

 

stood with a long whip, saying

Look where you’re going and go where you’re looking.

The poem begins with a reflection on the nation at its peak and prime. A nation is only as good as its citizens and its leaders. A nation doesn’t function without true unity across the board. The United States that was once celebrated for its “melting pot” dynamic is now cracked and on the verge of shatter. I cannot help but compare “the state of health” of the country and how it has been divided for some time. So how do we move forward and march toward pure repartition and unity?

Another piece that I found relatable was its touch on mental health. Even when facing depression, some people are expected to carry on through the threat and walk it off alone. Depression isn’t linear or a one-time battle. It can come in waves as people bob “in and out of depression”. There is a hidden expectation for individuals to deal with it on their own and not burden others with their internal struggles.  

It is important during these hard times to “remember there was singing sometimes”. As someone who has delt with depression in the past and will no doubt deal with it in the future, it helps to find joy in the little moments just as much as the big ones. Having individuals to turn to when one is treading the in the murky, dark water of depression and anxiety is just as crucial to survive and heal.

On a lighter note, I could not help but chuckle at the reference to coffee. It wasn’t until I moved to Seattle that I found a hankering and consistent enjoyment for coffee. For many artists and writers, coffee keeps the process of progress going. I can’t go for a day without coming across a coffee shop laid out in front of me. Seattle needs its coffee.

Red Town by Judith Skillman, standing in the red floor of Seattle Public Library-Central.

The Evergreen Echo

The poem reminds me of when I was a tourist in Seattle for the first time back in 2023. My fiancé and I hadn’t been to Seattle before. We instantly fell in love with the city and decided to take a leap of faith and move forward in the process to relocate. All it took was one visit to persuade us.

The poem ends with a grim yet helpful warning. The American figure dressed in black and holding a whip who is most like a horse jockey oversees the horses that “pick their way”. With Seattle surrounded by a luxurious tapestry of nature scenes and hidden trails, the man’s warning offers insight into the duality between one’s individual journey and one’s ultimate destination. The poem teaches one to surrender to the journey and take in the views as well as focus on the destination ahead of them.

To me, the Red Town stands as a symbol for the place where you were born and raised. As someone who lived 19 years in Texas, I needed a change. I am grateful to Texas for raising me and shaping me into the individual I am. Texas is also where my fiancé and I met. Yet, there comes a time when one must take the plunge and leave behind the place that raised them for a chance to flutter and flourish. The “it takes a village to raise a child” mentality refers to more than just the individuals who aid in the raising of the child. I wholeheartedly believe this place lives in us all.

Our country is in disarray with no signs of a clear remedy on the horizon. May we still find reasons to sing.