Date & Time
Phil Kaye’s Date and Time explores his life and impactful pockets of his time out of order. I find this relates quite easily to our discussion of non-linear time or how we experience time outside of the structures of chronological time. The quote from the beginning of the collection emphasizes the “out-of-order” remembrances of his life—spanning from the present back to before he was even born. Several of the poems play with this theme of non-chronological time or the haziness/clarity of time before the internet.
In the poem “Sick Day”, Kaye explores the idea of time changing perspective. What was once a delightful free day, unencumbered by responsibilities and the clock of the “real world”, now only serves as a low point and an unwelcome untethering from the bonds of regular life. Kay notes how the bedside clock doesn’t specify AM or PM, which he now views as “a design flaw”—before, it held no importance because as a child, the untethering and the timelessness of sickness (real or otherwise) is welcome, wanted. Even in the fictional sick day—one where the illness is feigned—the timelessness still has structure. The fiction connects with reality. In the real sickness, within the more “real” world of adulthood, reality seems to disconnect from time.
Also, when reading the latter half of the collection, I noticed various mentions of the throat in relation to language. Specifically, in several poems, Kaye uses the image of the throat—often connected to an inability to speak in some way. In the poem “Sick Day”, he writes: “no chorus of gentle skeptics/ to sway with a splintered voice/ though you still gutter/ something from your throat/ so loud you first worry/ then hope/ the neighbors might notice” (78). Here, the throat seems full, perhaps filled with the communication of sickness, of longing for connection and care. In other poems, such as “Ferris Wheel”, Kaye’s throat becomes an object of withholding—things are “lodged” in it. Again, it’s mentioned in the poem “Where the Party At, or, Silence” in which the throat is plural and acts as intended—something that facilitates communication. But even here, it seems that there’s a loss in true understanding.
Anyways, I found it truly fascinating how Kaye played with time, reality, and speech. Each poem resonated with me, and I appreciate the depth and work Kaye put into each piece. Like others have written, it’s like brown girl dreaming, even if it forms a less complete picture. The collection still evokes the feeling of memory and reflection, especially in the context of time.
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