Dennis Hinrichsen’s new collection of poems, Dementia Lyrics, is a book about saying goodbye and so much more. Hinrichsen’s brilliance isn’t limited to his wildly inventive prosody (his lines and phrases make Hockneyesque sketches across the page), but Hinrichsen knows an incredible amount of information about neurology and medical science, which he presents in a surprisingly accessible way. Hincrichsen is also a devil with language (I’m not // some banjo-playing / Southern preacher // pitching woo here / barbed // with Christ), but it’s the tender warmth, Hinrichsen’s caring nature, that I really want to emphasize.
This book is a set of elegies, poems that deal with death and loss, and the central thing Hinrichsen is elegizing is the rapid senescence of a dear friend who is suffering from Lewy Body Dementia. Saying goodbye to loved ones, as we all know, is hard, but saying goodbye to a person’s cognitive ability to say goodbye is tragic, and Hinrichsen captures this tragedy with deep empathy and poignancy. In the poem “Atrophic,” he writes, that friend’s brain today—new diagnosis—therefore ataxia— / central nervous system // shutting / down—autonomic // dysfunction that is / quivering… Elegy requires memory, so how do we elegize memory itself? This quandary necessitates a menu of unanswerable questions that leave us leaning into lived experiences, however fraught they are with impossible heartbreak.
In the first poem, Hinrichsen introduces us to engram theory, a hypothetical neurological concept that posits that our memories are stored in physical places in the brain. friend cannot burn new engrams, we’re told, and thus Hinrichsen’s caretaking finds its locus, for the poet suspects that perhaps simple repetitive physical tasks might light up extant engrams and retrieve at least a few of his friend’s most precious memories. If the poet can help the friend remember, the elegizing will find its mark, and the slow process of dying will not obliviate what was beautiful in this life.
In the poem “He Was a Boy. He Had a Boat. This is the City of Niagara Falls,” Hinrichsen introduces us to the concept of ecphoria delectica, which references the way a distant memory brings the rememberer pleasure. When he invokes his friend’s past in the following address, Hinrichsen is attempting to enact the ecphoria delectica concept: Dear Lake Ontario // can you come out to play I am / calling // this is ecphoria delectica // I am offering all my voltage / to bring you // forth he sailed you once / this sound is wind // in canvas / and if it’s just another cut rate // resurrection that poetry is // anonymous me beating / silence // to death I can live with that…
Dementia Lyrics is that rare book that resonates with both fans of experimental poetry, as well as anyone who has experienced the long goodbye of a loved one. Hinrichsen heightens language and improvises new poetic forms that he uses to ennoble and preserve our shared experiences so that we almost remember what’s still good in us.
John Freeman teaches writing at Oakland University. He publishes poetry and creative nonfiction under the name “Cal Freeman” and is the author of the books Brother of Leaving and Fight Songs.
